


Lucky Strike

by Fells_Kitten (SquirrleyCow)



Category: Undertale
Genre: Aftercare, Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BDSM, Biting, Bondage, Choking, Dom/sub, Drowning, F/F, F/M, No Ecto-Penis, Orgasm Denial, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is also sub, Reader is dom, Sans has invisible skin, Sans is a masochist, Sans is a reluctant Sub, Sans is dom, Smut, They're switches!, and now some violence, but still a penis, just a warning, lots of foreplay, no plot but there's a lead-in before sex, no plot then there's plot, post-pacifist above ground, reader is experienced, reader is female, sex acts in public, sexy magic, slightly improper use of flogger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-21 18:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 63,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7399153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquirrleyCow/pseuds/Fells_Kitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh now you're just being hurtful." His bony hand rests against the freezer door.</p><p>You chuckle as you stand upright. You manage to turn before he slams the fridge door shut and shoves you against it. You smile lustfully up at him as he bares his teeth in a hungry leer. His hand pins you by your collar bone, just inches from your neck.</p><p>"Maybe I want to try the hurting for a change?" You ask as he leans closer.</p><p>He freezes. "What?" He asks in disbelief.</p><p>You shrug as he steps back. "I mean, I'm constantly covered in bruises, bites and blood. Not that I mind. But I wonder sometimes..." His face falls as you push against his chest until he takes another step back. You blink and look up at him. "What you would look like tied up, bruised, begging for release?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>*new tumblr:  fellskitten.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You walk down the stairs of your newest boyfriends apartment. It was sleek, modern with an open floor-plan. Lots of white and bright colors. It didn't suit him at all. He was a closed off, borderline surly and dark kind of guy.

But that was how your taste in men ran. You could always tell the difference between real _mean_ and an overly tough facade. Sans fell into the latter group. He talked a big game and liked to get rough with you, loved it actually, but no way would he step over the line into true cruelty. Him, or any other monster you met.

All the monsters from Mount Ebbot seemed to have walked straight out of an eighties badly-dressed villain convention. All spikes, leather and platform shoes with an unspoken dual-chromatic dress code of red and black.

Your socks have little traction on the smooth wood steps and you anxiously grip the banister to keep your balance.

You only wore the thigh-high socks because they never failed to get his attention. They were a pain, the elastic on thigh-highs was never enough to keep them from rolling down your legs or sliding to your knees. So you spent most of your time wearing them tugging incessantly at them.

Not surprisingly Sans is fast asleep on the couch where you'd left him to go shower. You roll your eyes and tug on your socks. The black t-shirt you'd stolen from his laundry basket fell to your knees and covered the tops of the black and purple striped socks. You knew you shouldn't have packed a skin-tight shirt, but you liked showing off your body for him when you had time alone. Unfortunately your back was still raw and the new bites on your shoulders and chest...and hips didn't approve of the constant friction of your tight clothes.

You keep walking right past Sans toward the kitchen. The skeleton monster dominated the couch. Even with his legs bent his feet hung over the arm.

His bony hand snatches your wrist before you get too far and you're tugged to a stop. His cool grip feels nice on your raw skin. "Well hey there, sweet-cheeks." He rumbles drowsily. You look back at him. He was one of two skeletons you'd met and his brother was the other one.

His face was like a cartoon skull. Smooth, large eye-sockets with nothing but his red pupils shining inside. A triangle in the center where a nose should be. A near constant shark-toothed grin. He still had eyelids and his sockets would shift in ways that you'd quickly learned to read as expressions. The rest of his body was an anatomically correct human skeleton.

Though you'd quickly learned his bones were covered with invisible skin and musculature, it didn't take much of an adjustment period after you started dating. You found him attractive on his own after all.

"Hey yourself, lazy-bones." You reply, pulling your hand free of his grip as he sits upright. You laugh when he quickly grabs your hand and tugs you into his lap sideways. He always had such a fast reaction time.

He cradles you in his lap with one arm supporting your shoulders and his other hand resting against your thighs. "Mm, already wantin' round two?" He purrs, playfully biting your ear.

Your heart races to your throat as his cool tongue brushes your skin before his sharp teeth bite down. Your fist clenches around his shirt but you manage to speak. "Nope, just wanted to get food. And you ruined my pajamas, this was all I had left in my overnight bag."

Sans chuckles against your neck, his left hand sliding from your shoulders to your neck. You bite your still swollen lip and swing your legs off his lap before his other hand slides between your legs. "Aw, come back, babe." He whines when you begin marching to the kitchen again.

You playfully tap your covered ass without looking back.

You aren't surprised when he's leaning against a counter as you walk into the kitchen. "Teleporting gig is getting old." You remark, pulling open the fridge and bending purposefully at your waist. The shirt rides up your back and shows Sans a nice, long view of your uncovered ass while you debate over leftover pizza or making sandwiches.

"Oh now you're just being hurtful." His bony hand rests against the freezer door.

You chuckle as you stand upright. You manage to turn before he slams the fridge door shut and shoves you against it. You smile lustfully up at him as he bares his teeth in a hungry leer. His hand pins you by your collar bone, just inches from your neck.

"Maybe I want to try the hurting for a change?" You ask as he leans closer.

He freezes. "What?" He asks in disbelief.

You shrug as he steps back. "I mean, I'm constantly covered in bruises, bites and blood. Not that I mind. But I wonder sometimes..." His face falls as you push against his chest until he takes another step back. You blink and look up at him. "What you would look like tied up, bruised, begging for release?"

There's a long moment between you where your eyes search his carefully blank face. He shatters it by throwing his head back and laughing. "You wanna try being the Dom, _you?"_

"There are things called switches, you know." You cross your arms over your chest and cock out a hip in annoyance.

"Kitten," He shakes his head, still laughing. "I don't think you have it in you to top me."

You scoff. "What, because you're bigger, a guy or a monster?"

"Because I like getting it _way_ more rough than I give." He replies with a growl.

You try to hide how his tone makes your heart flutter. "I've topped before."

"Mm, I don't doubt it." He steps close, pulling you to him softly by your hips. "You're too confident not to try. But I don't know if you could handle it. I don't like to listen to orders."

"Is that supposed to be challenge?" You question.

"Nah, but all this talk is getting me going again."

"It never takes much." You chuckle as he leans down to nibble at your neck. "But seriously, you won't even give me a chance?"

He sighs and pulls back. "I guess it can't do any harm, just don't get your feelings hurt when I start complaining." He replies with a smirk.

"Ass." You smack his chest playfully.

He shrugs. "I'm at your mercy." He adds dramatically, stepping back to bow.

You roll your eyes and snatch a handful of his collar to tug him back up to his bedroom where all the toys were.

"Hope you have better ideas than this."

"Shut up, not like you would've followed willingly."

"Maybe I would've."

"Didn't I say shut up?"

"Did you? I guess I didn't hear."

You look over your shoulder at the shit-eating grin on his face as you climb the stairs. You sigh as you pull him into the bedroom. Maybe you had bitten off more than you could chew?

No backing out now. You'd just have to get creative. "Looks like I'll have to teach you some manners. Getting your way all the time has spoiled you."

"And how you gonna back that up, love? I'm stronger than you." He counters as you kick the bedroom door shut behind you.

You yank hard on his collar and grab the shoulder of his coat. You pull him off balance before letting go of his shirt. Before he can recover, you rip his coat off his back and shove hard against his shoulders. He bounces on the bed with the first look of surprise you'd seen on him.

With a smug smile you drop his coat and straddle his lap. He shakes the surprise from his face and smiles crookedly as he tries to sit up. You pin his shoulder down and reach for one of the cuffs still hanging from the headboard. He fights you playfully for few minutes, the first cuff is the hardest to latch closed and you take a second to catch your breath.

Thankfully he's struggling with your weight on his chest so he's sweating by the time you latch the second cuff tight around his other wrist. There's a look in his eyes you haven't seen before. An excitement maybe he was surprised to be feeling at your hands.

"My shirts' still on." He says when he catches his breath.

"Who said you'd get to be naked?" You counter while you debate on cuffing his ankles too.

He looks at you curiously. "Well, it's sex isn't it?"

You shrug and shove away from his lap, deciding you're going to cuff his ankles after all. Maybe teach him a lesson for running his mouth. "At least one of us is going to get off, and one of them is me. _You_ have to earn it." A small sound escapes him as you tighten and latch the ankle cuffs, he didn't put up a fight for those. You don't bother taking off his shoes or socks.

You look at him with mild surprise. "I thought you said you were going to be difficult to top?" You can see how hard he already is beneath his gym shorts.

"I am. But I like where you're going with this." He tilts his head to look at you, there's a light red blush against his cheekbones. "But can you deliver?"

You scoff and crawl off the bed. Hm, where did that blindfold go? You spot it near the dresser and scoop it up. "What's the safe-word?" You ask.

"Paisley." He tells you, watching you search the floor with curiosity. "But I've never had to use one." He boasts.

"Anything off-limits?" You ask, looking up at him and ignoring his last comment.

He thinks for a moment. "I hate role play."

You stare back at him. "That's it? I had a list. Jeeze you must think I'm a prude."

He tugs lightly on the cuffs. "Nah, right now I think you're just stalling." He teases. You walk forward and tie the blindfold around those expressive red eyes and he flashes you a smile. If he was going to keep prodding you, everything was going to be a surprise.

"God, you need a box for all your toys. Such a mess."

"I prefer 'em in the open, heat of the moment stuff. But I keep the special toys under the bed."

You're curious at the prospect of that and look under the bed-skirt to find a blood-red box. You pull it out and bit your lip to keep from gasping. A blush floods your cheeks at the thoughts that run through your mind.

"Nothing off limits, right?" You ask again.

He groans. "Nope. Seriously nothin'. Just don't make me call you Nurse Patty or something. And I guess don't cut off body parts. But I thought that went without saying. Are you gonna make me wait here all night?" He complains.

"No, but I wish I could find a ball gag for that mouth of yours."

"You like hearing my 'unbridled pleasure' too much for that." He replies with a smirk.

You've made a vague plan of action and grab a few things from the box. You stand and stare at him spread-eagle on the bed. The sight makes your heart flutter, even if he's looking impatiently in your general direction. The slight blush on his cheekbones lets you know it's doing something for him.

You decide to work him up before you bring in the heavy artillery. You straddle his hips without touching his lap and place your feet against his thighs to keep him immobile. You pull the thin scarf you found in the box around his neck and let it loosely hang against his collar bone. For a moment his breathing quickens before it settles again and your hands carefully explore his invisible skin from his neck to his hips.

You find several sensitive places and realize you haven't had the chance to really get to know his body before this. He knew you intimately, knew where to place his hands and teeth to get the reaction he wanted. But you barely knew anything about him except he got impatient when you gave blow-jobs and the only time he begged for anything was for you to bite him when you came a few times.

His fingers twitch when you run your hands over his chest. His breath hitches when you slide your fingertips against the skin under his waistband. He'll gently tilt his head back, exposing more of his skin when you trace down his neck.

And for ten serene minutes he doesn't speak, a small miracle in itself.

When you shift your weight to explore his legs he sighs in mild frustration. "Ugh. You're so damn tender. Totally not what I had in mind."

You smile as you slide between his legs. "Is it torturous to feel my hands slide over your skin without falling over myself to get you off?"

His expression twists to one of embarrassment and he looks away. "Ah, so I'm doing something right." You begin to tug slowly on his shorts and his breath quickens again. "It's...new." He finally admits. His body tenses as you carefully pull his shorts all the way to his ankles. Your hands slide up his shins, run over his knees and inch their way up his thighs.

You stop just after your fingertips slide under his boxers. Your hands run sideways before carefully inching higher until you can feel the heat of his sex. You let them stay there for a few moments, gently stroking his skin before you move to cup his ass. Experimentally, you dig your nails in and he gasps sharply, his body tensing.

With a smirk you take your hands away and ease his boxers down to his ankles to join his shorts. You breathe against his pale red dick before kneeling beside his hips. His hands clench into fists in the cuffs.

"I'm gonna make you crave even the most gentle touch." You tell him, tracing your finger around the base of his dick. He manages a shaking laugh. "G-good lu-aah..." His words fade as you ghost your hand over his dick. It's such a small sound but it lights a fire in your core like nothing has before.

It was always rewarding to bring a tough partner down a couple notches, but you honestly hadn't expected Sans to be so sensitive already.

You hover over his neck and pull lightly on the shortest end of the soft fabric. The loop tightens against his skin as it slides around his neck. The faint pressure is enough to make his body tense in anticipation.

Suddenly you thrust your hand under his jaw and shove his face sideways into the bed. He doesn't moan or cry out but he begins to pant. You know the angle isn't enough to choke, but if you apply more pressure... He shudders pleasurably as your grip tightens. You lean close and lick his skin. He gasps and tugs against the cuffs over his head.

"What is it, Sans? You've been awful quiet."

"You know what I want." He replies with a soft growl.

You ease-up on his neck, just to be sure he can fill his lungs, and slowly lick the crook of his neck. He gives the faintest moan but catches his breath. "What's that?" You ask, stroking his strong jaw with your thumb.

For the first time you hear him whine, his teeth gritting together. "I want you to be rough. God, just pick something! Bite me, choke me, hit me. Something!"

You sit up and he groans in frustration. You slap his lower thigh with the flogger you'd found in his toy box and he cries out, body bowing against the bed. "I didn't know you had one of these. They're so much fun." You tell him as you give a harder slap to the same spot.

If you hadn't had experience with one of these, you could easily aim incorrectly and do some unintended damage. Which was unacceptable. You roll the tendrils loosely in your opposite hand like twisting a towel for a locker-room slap.

The same principle applied, if you hit someone with the edges of the tendrils first it would hurt like a motherfucker. You had to aim for the middle of the bunch to hit the skin first (without wrapping too much around a limb, or hitting privates) so it was like a concentrated slap.

He groans and his hands grip the bars of the headboard, bracing himself before you strike him again a little higher. "Ahh! Fuck..." He sinks to the bed with a sigh. He said he liked it rough, so you risked his thighs. These were better on the back, where they didn't run the threat of hurting _too_ much.

"Thank you." Your eyes widen. "I-I was dying there."

"So you do have manners."

He gives a breathless laugh. "I'm not a heathen. Course I'll thank you for listening."

"How about we do something to ease that tension?" You ask.

"Yes, please."

"Mm, so polite now."

He chuckles. "You've definitely proven your point. I'm just along for the ride and you're calling the shots."

"Good." You reach beside you and grab the small purple vibrator with a tapered end and turn on the lowest setting.

Sans shivers. "Ooh, I like the way you play." He adjusts on the bed hearing the soft whir of the vibrator. You can't help but giggle a little bit as you drip lube on the smooth silicone. You'd never put a vibrator in someone's ass, but there's always a first time for everything.

You're surprised it goes in with only a little resistance, it's small after all. Maybe a few inches long, the tapered end keeps it from getting lost. But the reaction is definitely worth it. His head rolls back and he gives a low moan. You watch him grow used to the sensation, his moans not as earnest before you give him a harsh blow with the flogger again.

His back bows and you hit his untouched thigh with the next blow. "Fuck! Ah!" You hit him a few more times before the blooming red welts on his skin tell you to give him a break. You slide between his thighs and he struggles to catch his breath. "N-no, I was fine. Mmore. Please."

"Shhh." You tell him before you slide the tip of his dick in your mouth. The bitter taste of his pre-cum doesn't last long. When he starts to complain about the gentleness you rake your nails from his hips down his raw thighs and he cries out again for you.

You bob your head and take more of him into your mouth. "AH! Shit! Ah...harder. Please." He can barely speak between gasps for air, he writhes pleasantly under your touch. He screams again as you slap his thigh. Your free hand manages to find the control buttons on the vibrator and you turn up the speed.

"Oh..mmngh!" You can tell he bit his lips to save some of his pride. Easier to live with a moan than to scream 'oh my God', apparently. He twitches in your mouth and you know he's close to the edge. You pull away and he tenses against the bed, pulling hard on the cuffs until the leather creaks under the strain.

"Oh, did you think you were going to get to finish first?" You ask.

He shivers and his chest heaves. "Hoped you weren't payin' attention."

You slap his deeply red thigh and he cries out again. "Bad manners again. You haven't earned it yet." You reach down and turn up the intensity of the vibrator. He presses his shoulders into the bed as he tries to swallow the moan crawling up his throat.

"I'm not through with you yet. You don't come until I say so. Understand?" You pull off your shirt and throw it to the floor.

Sans struggles to nod and just for fun you max out the vibrator. "Nnnaah! Oh fuck, fuck!"

"I expect a verbal response when I ask a question. Understood?"

"Y-YES!"

You smile as you straddle his hips. "Good. Now, you don't come until I say so. Do you understand?"

"Yeeess..." He draws out the word, his muscles trembling with the effort.

"I'm so glad you understand. There's still so much fun I want to have with you. Should I turn that down a notch?" You ask teasingly.

"N-n-nope. I-I can handle it."

You brush his dick against your slick entrance and he takes a deep shuddering gasp. "You sure? Maybe it's too much."

"No! No I gaaaaaht it." He throws his head back again, sweat runs down his skull. You very carefully lower yourself until your hips touch his. You can feel the slight vibration through his body and you giggle.

Gingerly you start to rock your body causing Sans to moan low. "Holy fuck, you're bone-hard. Mm, feels thicker too."

He chuckles dryly, his fists clenched tight around the headboard. "Well, I a-aim to plllease."

"Wanna watch?" You ask.

"F-fuck yeah."

You slide the blindfold off and he blinks rapidly. His pupils find your naked body grinding against him and a shuddering gasp makes his head roll back. You massage your breasts when his eyes open again. His hips give an involuntary buck and he stifles another moan.

"I thought only rough stuff got you off?" Your hands brace on his chest as you work your hips. "Didn't you say I didn't have it in me to top you?" You ask as your hands slide to his shoulders. Your fingers toy with the scarf wrapped around his neck.

He breathes hard beneath you, his mouth open. "I...I could still...get off. N-not stopin' me."

"Mm, but you're listening."

"Fuck off." He growls with a smile.

You give a shrug and shift forward until he slides out of you. You sit on the bed between his thighs and stretch your legs. "I don't need you to get me off, I'm perfectly capable of getting myself."

"Aw, come on." He nearly whines as you turn off the vibrator. You extend a hand to his frustrated scowl and lightly trace his pointed teeth with your fingertips. He growls when you shove your fingers against his tongue to wet them. You pull your hand back as he snaps his jaw shut.

"You misbehaved, now you have a time-out." You tease as you circle your clit with the cool spit from his tongue. "Really gonna piss me off." He warns, tugging again on his cuffs. You pretend to ignore him, throwing your head back as you work your other fingers into your opening.

You let yourself get lost in your own movements, smiling when you hear him moan in reply to your sounds of pleasure. He had watched you self-stimulate more than once and it always worked him up. He liked to let you get yourself to the edge and then bring you back down before finishing you himself.

Your voice cracks and your toes curl in your socks. "Don't stop, come for me baby." He begs breathlessly. You smile to yourself and stop, knowing if you gave in he would get some relief. And he would claim he was still the dominant one this time. You weren't in this situation to cum, this was about showing your arrogant boyfriend there was more than one way to have fun with someone in bed. Maybe he'd learn something for a change.

"Ugh, fuck...You're pretty determined." He sighs when you sit up. "You really can't give up any control, can you?" You ask as he licks his lips. "Can...don't want to..." He replies between breaths. You chuckle as you trace his teeth again, this time he licks carefully at your fingers. His pupils watch your face closely before he wraps his lips around them and licks the taste of you from your skin.

The sensation is strangely arousing and you let him continue for a few more seconds.

"I see. You like it taken from you. Just like every other sub out there." You pull your hand from his mouth and grip his jaw again. "That doesn't make you unique, Sans. It makes you oh-so-ordinary." His pupils dance when your other hand grips the fabric hanging from his neck. You lightly pull on it putting even pressure around his neck. It's just enough to make his breathing pick up, his eyelids flutter before they close.

"And if you don't keep up those manners we've talked about, I'm going to leave you tied to this bed and I'll sleep on the couch downstairs."

"N-no. Please don't do that." His voice is breathy and he begins to squirm before stopping himself, lying tense beneath you.

"So you'll finally watch that mouth of yours?" You tug hard on the fabric, wrapping it around your fist before letting it go slack. He gasps sharply before giving a shaky moan. "Y-yes."

"Good boy." You smile crookedly down at him before leaning back and blindly feeling for the vibrator controls. You watch his face closely as it turns on again. His eyes snap shut and he sucks air through his gritted teeth. His feet brace against the foot board making the bed groan.

You carefully position yourself in his lap, sitting snugly against his dick and give the scarf in your hand another tug. The fabric has enough give that you know it wouldn't put as much pressure on his neck as your hand or rope would. You aren't really comfortable with choking him bare-handed, but you've been choked enough that you know what certain things will do.

He pulls down against your grip, cinching the scarf tighter. His sockets furrow and he easily catches his breath when you let the fabric go slack. He chews his bottom lip and stares up at you, his chest heaves with anticipation.

And he's never looked more sexy.

You shift your hips and carefully guide him back inside you. His fists clench and the bed groans again as he braces his feet against the foot board. He watches you intently as you sink him deep within your walls. A sigh escapes you at the feeling.

"Remember," You reach and turn up the intensity on the vibrator. "You don't get to cum until I say so."

"Yes. Y-yes I remember." He pants. "Fuck!" His head snaps back as you slowly work your hips over him. He adjusts to your rhythm and you reach for the smooth-handled flogger. Sans' hands shake as he grips the bars of the headboard. You smile mischievously as you shove his shirt up to his collar bone, exposing his bare chest. You know it's a much harsher sting against someones' stomach and chest compared to the back. You also know he's probably worked up enough to not notice the difference between pain and pleasure.

You also, also know that you shouldn't be intending to cause some damage, but you can't help recalling how rough you liked him fucking you and he did say he liked it much more rough than he gave. You trust he didn't say that lightly. It was a truthful taunt to see how far you would go.

You play with the leather tendrils of the flogger, maintaining the movement of your hips and watching Sans' face. He licks his lips and waits. "Remember the safe-word?" You ask.

He swallows thickly. "Paisleys. I'm ready, c'mon baby-girl. I'm ready."

Your heart races at his eager plea and you pause your movement to roll the leather straps loosely in your opposite hand before flicking your wrist. The tendrils slap his ribs experimentally and he tenses under the impact. "Mm, good tec-technique." He struggles to speak as you grind your hips together. "But I prefffer b-bad technique." He adds with a breathless smile.

"Bad technique. So you like the pain, real pain?"

"Too much to ha-handle?" he asks. You frown for a second, still rolling your hips as you look up in thought. "Can t-tell you one thing. Wh-what you're doin' will make me cum the mo-moment you say so. But if you wanna hear me scr-scream, you'll get rougher."

You look down at him with a crooked smile as you twist the leather straps in your grip again. "It sounds like you want to scream, but just can't ask."

He smiles at you knowingly.

"If you want me to make you scream, beg for it." You slap the other side of his ribs with the flogger with the same weight as the previous one.

"Nnngh! Please, please make me scream."

"Louder." You give a harder blow in the same spot and his back arches.

"Please! I-I want you to make me scream!"

You smile at that, but he was still talking clearly. "I don't believe you." You tease and hit his sternum with just the edges of the straps. They snap against his skin like tiny whips and an instant red blush paints his invisible skin. "AH! Fuck!" His head snaps back before he falls limp. "Please, more...I-I wanna scream for you."

His words give you heady rush. You hit him again, just like before and his back arches. He cries out and begs for another. You dig your free hand into his hip and slap the cords against his stomach.

Sans' body bucks into yours and you yelp in surprise, catching your weight on his chest. He pants hard, his eyes unfocused. "Ha-harder." He whispers as you push yourself back upright. His need makes you shiver with delight and you oblige him. "Oh God!"

You moan a little at his outburst and have to take a second to recover before you can hit him again, across his chest.

"Ah! P-paisley! Paisleys!"

Your eyes widen and you stop moving, letting him catch his breath. "Do we need to stop?" You ask, about to un-do his cuffs.

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. He swallows thickly. "I was going to cum if you didn't stop." He tells you without shame.

Your eyebrows rise as a smug smile pulls at your lips. "The first time you use a safe-word was to save some pride?"

An honest blush burns against his cheekbones and he looks away, realizing his mistake. You run your hand over his marked chest and he shudders, squirming under your touch."You okay to continue?" You ask. He nods. "Yeah. I'm good."

"I'm going to start again and you just let me know when you're close." You tell him. He nods and you lean in to kiss him. He sighs through the kiss and you smile when you pull back. You warm him back up by coaxing hickeys to bloom on his neck; gently tugging on the scarf every few seconds and letting him recover before trying again.

You lean back and try a few experimental hits with the fraying flogger. When he begs, pleading for more you gradually ramp it back up to where you were when he called it off. "Harder!" His muscles shake against the pull of the cuffs.

You give a blow across his chest to make an x from the one earlier and his eyes roll back. "I-I'm clo-close..." He moans.

"Not yet." You tell him, riding him a little faster.

"Fffffuck!" his eyes shut tight in concentration, the effort makes sweat roll down his skull. He bares his teeth as his body rolls. "Please, please I-I caAAH!" You strike him across the ribs and the bed groans, his legs shake beneath you.

His chest heaves, a moan escaping with every breath. His eyes beg for the release his lips can't.

You watch him writhe, thoroughly enjoying this sweet torture before you tell him. "Okay, now."

Sans bows into the bed and screams as his hips buck harshly against your ass. The bar his hands had wrapped around snaps free of the headboard and sticks in the wall behind him. But you can't tear your eyes from his face, totally undone as long denied pleasure rocks through him. You ride him through the orgasm and when he falls limp to the bed you continue to stare at his face.

You'd completely forgotten about your own end, it was eclipsed or maybe fulfilled by Sans' satisfaction.

You gently pull away from him and wince as your hips readjust to standing. The little vibrator goes first, turned off and set aside to clean later. His eyes follow you as you uncuff his ankles, pulling his feet back onto the bed. They'd slipped through the bars during all the excitement.

You can't help but laugh when you uncuff his wrists. "You broke the damn headboard and put a hole in your wall. Doubt the landlord will like that. How's your shouldmmmph?" He surprises you by pulling you down for a kiss once his hands were free. His fingers tremble as they tangle in your hair and his lips carefully caress yours.

When he pulls back you're speechless. It was the kindest kiss he'd ever given you. He was usually rough, all teeth and tongue like he was fighting your face. But that...

"Wh...where'd that come from?" You ask a little dazed.

He smiles crookedly up at you, his thumbs stroke your cheekbones. "Took the fire outta me." His voice cracks as he chuckles dryly. "Fuck, that was the best sex I've ever had. You know how to handle a guy."

You laugh and stand. "C'mon. Lets get those clothes off."

"Shit, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't do another round."

You laugh harder. "I meant so we can sleep."

"Oh. Yeah." He winces as he kicks his shoes off. He carefully kicks his shorts and boxers to the floor in a lump. You help him pull his shirt over his head and make him sit up so you can massage the stiffness out of his shoulders.

He complains at first but he's too drained to keep up the tough-guy facade. His head lolls forward after a bit and you plant a kiss at the top of his spine to wake him up. "I think it's bedtime." You throw back the tangled sheets and he falls heavily to the bed.

Sans surprises you again by tugging you close and curling against your smaller frame. The cuddling wasn't new but the position was. He tucks his head under your chin, against your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist. You smile as you realize it was the same way you slept against him after sex.

You don't take for granted that it was an accident. He was too controlling to make a mistake. You wrap your arms over his shoulders and rest your chin on top of his skull. For tonight you'd impressed the monster enough to let you be in control and that was a victory you were going to savor.


	2. Stutter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a prequel, because why not?
> 
> Maroon 5 songs make good fic titles :P

You swirl the ice in your rum and coke. The next was going to be neat. You'd noticed the bartender didn't change how he filled the glass for the ones without ice.

You glance around the club. Heavy Metal plays quietly over the speakers so people could have some privacy, but not have to scream to hear each other. You sip your drink and watch a trio of women step quietly behind the curtain on the far side of the room.

You'd been back there a few times. It was too cramped, you usually took your partners somewhere more spacious. Like the penthouse suite of your luxury hotel downtown. You'd inherited the place from your senile great-uncle and "bam" you're practically a millionaire overnight.

The boning of your corset begins to dig into your armpit and you shift your weight. A few monsters are in the club tonight. They seemed to enjoy the types of people who frequented here.

You hadn't had a monster to play with yet. They were a curiosity and very popular lately. The initial shock of them had worn off since they'd come out of their mountain nearly a year ago. You'd seen them on the news, their King and the kid who'd helped free them were trying to sort out the legalities of monsters.

You wish the news would find some other story to poke at. It was 24/7 with the damn monsters.

You finish your drink and order another. Neat. It wasn't to save money, you had shit-tons of that, it was to have harder drink.

You politely decline a curly haired woman who approaches you, Kathy. She was too submissive and you weren't in the mood. You'd played with her before. A screamer, lots of fun. But it just wasn't what you were after tonight.

She dips her chin almost like a bow and walks to the table a few feet from you.

You have to admit part of the reason why you liked this place was the formality. You never had to repeat yourself if you said no, and everyone was still relaxed. It was much nicer than the regular bars and clubs you'd tried.

You're about to close your tab and head home when you feel someone's eyes on you. You glance up and across the bar sits a monster you've never seen before. Jeeze he's _huge._ All of the monsters were larger than humans, but you realize its his stockiness that makes him seem larger than the others you'd seen.

He was...striking. He had the face of a cartoon skeleton, and from what you could see in the dim light of the bar, his body matched. Red pinpricks sit in dark eye-sockets like pupils, they study you intensely.

You tilt your head and give him a small smile, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He gives a lopsided smile, revealing a mouth full of shark-teeth and you have to grip the bar to keep yourself from shivering.

You get the bartenders attention and order another rum and coke, neat. "What's the skull drinking?" You ask as he mixes your drink. "Double whiskey, straight."

"Pour me one too, please." You tell him. You lick your lips nervously while your face is blocked by the bartender and take a steadying breath. No time to lose your cool.

When the whiskey sits beside you and the bartender walks away you look back at the monster. You watch him as you set the drink in front of the empty stool beside you.

His expression changes. It takes you a second to read that unique face. He smirks and throws back his drink before pushing away from the bar. You realize it was amusement as you try not to watch him walk around the bar to stand beside you.

You focus on your own drink and take a decent gulp to settle your suddenly racing heart. When he doesn't sit you turn slightly to look back at him. You have to look higher than you expected because he's a good foot taller than you thought.

He's dressed very casually. Black gym shorts with a yellow stripe down the legs, black and red sneakers, a black t-shirt and black hoodie with white fluff around the hood.

You introduce yourself with a smile.

He looks at you for a half a second longer before he replies. "Sans." He slides into the bar stool beside you and your heart amazingly pounds faster. "Isn't it usually the guy who buys drinks?" He asks before taking a drink.

"Around here everyone's on the same _playing_ field." Your eyebrow rises quickly with the slight word play.

Surprisingly he breaks into a genuine smile. "Yeah, I heard from some friends that this place had a decent crowd."

"I'm a big fan of rules. And no one's too pushy."

"Play nice or not-at-all kind of girl?"

You scoff into your drink. "Hardly." He gives an approving rumble that makes you shift your weight. "It just ruins the mood when someone doesn't take a hint."

"Glad I didn't ruin your mood, then." Sans glances sideways at you as he takes another drink. His bony hand (literally, it was just bones) nearly engulfs the glass.

"I don't think you could if you tried, Sans." You tell him confidently.

He leans down, hesitating before he touches your chin. One of the unspoken rules was not to touch someone without an invitation. Whoever told him the rules did a damn good job. Or maybe he could just read a room well. He stops himself and smiles crookedly at you. "Maybe I'd like to try?"

You look up at his half-lidded eyes and remind yourself to breathe. "Wanna go back to my place?" You ask.

"Fuck yes."

You chew your bottom lip as you get the bartenders attention. You both pay your tabs, you covering his last drink, and finish the rest of your alcohol. No reason to waste a good drink. You slide from your bar stool and throw your purse over your shoulder.

You barely came to his shoulder in heels, this was going to be interesting.

*

The elevator prompts you to swipe your card before opening on your floor. You tightly clutch your purse strap. It is even more difficult to control yourself in this confined space with him than you expected. He smells so...masculine.

He whistles softly under his breath when the doors open and your suite is revealed. You chuckle to yourself and lead the way. The massive living room and entry is open to the kitchen. Floor to ceiling windows take up the far wall and give a breath-taking view of the city.

"Holy shit. I thought you just had a room here."

You chuckle again, setting your purse on the kitchen counter. "The elevator will open and go down without a card." You tell him in case he wants to duck-out afterward.

"So what, you a female fifty shades?" He asks, watching you slip off your heels and walk across the living room to your bedroom. "Nah, I was like this before I inherited this insane place. Hope you didn't read that trash, so inaccurate."

He shrugs.

You pause at the hallway when he doesn't follow. "You coming or not, big guy?"

You continue down the hall without looking back and step into your bedroom. You switch on the light and you sigh. It was the only part of the suite that had your personal touch to it. Huge curtains of fabric hang from the ceiling to the floor, a California king four poster bed sits on the far wall with a tantric divan at the foot of it.

Cool breath on the back of your neck makes your eyes flutter. His hands grip your hips and pull you against him as he nudges your head to the side so he can kiss your neck. You start breathing harder as his hands travel over your stomach and his teeth nibble at your skin.

You take a deep breath and step into your room. "Whew! Uh, before we get too far. What's off limits?" You try to clear your head and fail as you turn to him, sitting on the high end of the divan. He chuckles and shuts the door behind him, slowly pacing toward you.

"Well, who's gonna top?" He growls.

"I-I fi-figured," You stop yourself before you become a stuttering mess. "I hoped you would, actually." You tell him.

His smile grows and he still walks closer. Just the way he walks, like he's hunting you down...it makes it difficult to think straight. "Then tell me what you like and don't like."

You wish he would just get close enough to touch already. You close your eyes for a moment and open them when you can speak again. "I'm not into role-play, knives, anal, at least not the first time we play, same with blindfolding, those weird suction cups I've seen some places, humiliation or extreme degradation."

"Anything else?" He asks. He was finally close enough to feel the cold from his skin.

"N-n-no." You whisper as he traces your jaw with his thumbs. His fingers rest against your neck. He leans down to your level. "I can work with that." He pulls you to him in a kiss. The moment your lips touch it quickly builds to something borderline violent.

Your hands tangle in his jacket and you pull yourself against him, desperate for more.

He pulls back and the look in his eyes makes your knees weak. A barely restrained hunger. It was a look you rarely saw and it was never so quickly. "Bed." He growls.

"W-wait." You place a hand on his chest. "C-condoms and toys are in the nightst-stand, bottom drawer."

"You always stutter when you get flustered?"

You feel a blush burn your cheeks.

"No, it's kinda cute. And kinda hot." He pulls you to him suddenly. It makes you squeak in surprise. "No one's ever said it was hot." You breathe.

"Now, bed." He growls again.

You scramble to the bed and start to unzip your skirt. "Mm, I don't remember saying take your clothes off."

You zip your skirt back up and sit on the bed watch him. "Good girl." He comments, searching through the bottom drawer. You chew your bottom lip, your heart pounding in your chest. Suddenly you realize you never asked the most obvious question and now you feel stupid for no thinking of it sooner.

Do monsters have normal junk?

You're reminded of a hilarious comic where Lois Lane and Superman are about to have sex for the first time and he has pincers on his junk because he was an alien.

You decide not to ask so you don't look like an idiot, plus he pulls a condom free from the drawer. So that had to mean he had a dick. A normal one. Right? He also pulls the small bundle of black rope out and tosses it on the bed beside you. The scissors go on the nightstand.

"Should probably un-do your hair." He suggests, setting the foil wrapper on the nightstand. You pull out bobby pins and pile them on the nightstand too. Your hair falls, still curled from the up-do.

He reaches for the rope. "What's your safe-word?" He asks, motioning for you to turn around. You awkwardly turn on the bed and sit on your heels with your back to him. He takes the rope and gently tugs your arms behind your back below your shoulder blades.

"Carmel." You tell him as he folds your forearms on top of each other, your finger tips reach the insides of your elbows.

"You actually use it if someone goes too far?" He asks, lacing the rope through itself to make a tight restraint by tying your forearms together. You close your eyes, licking your lips as your heart races again. "I've used it before when I needed to."

"Good. Wouldn't want to scare off a new friend so soon." He breathes against your neck as he cinches the rope tight. You shiver but recover. "Don't give yourself too much credit. It takes a lot to scare me."

"Hm, we'll find out I guess." He tells you walking around the bed, trying and failing to hide his smile.

You lick your lips again when he stands for a moment in front of you. He smiles in reply, resting one knee on the mattress. He's so tall he has to lean to reach it. You stare up at him as he drops his jacket to the floor, pulling off his shirt next.

You gasp softly at the sight of his exposed rib-cage and spine. He chuckles and slowly pulls down his waistband. You notice his boxers hang against something besides bone, suspended just a little away from the starkness of his hips. Your eyes widen and you gasp again when you see his pale red dick. Holy fuck it was as big as your hand, and it was nearly transparent. It reminded you of a cherry gummy bear.

Well...that answered a few questions.

His pupils dance as he tangles his hand in your hair and pulls you across the bed to him. You nearly fall face-first into his crotch, but his grip stops you a few inches away from his cock. He slides his other hand into your hair and encourages you closer.

A thrill runs through your blood before you extend your tongue to lick his red skin. You look up at him as he guides you onto his dick. It's...girthier than you expected. Before he hits the spot that will inevitably make you gag he pulls back. You roll your tongue under the head and he hisses before exhaling slowly.

Just as you think he's being far too gentle for your liking he starts thrusting into your mouth. He doesn't hilt himself, but the sudden roughness catches you off guard. You moan, your body relaxing in reflex and he hums appreciatively at the sound.

Without warning he hits the back of your throat and you gag, eyes watering.

He pulls back immediately and groans a little in frustration. You cough and catch your breath as he releases your hair. "Shit. Hate that sound. Would've liked to fuck that pretty face of yours."

You shiver and try to lick the drool from your face. "You're welcome to try again." You look expectantly up at him. He takes your jaw in his hand and your breathing quickens as he nearly pulls your knees off the bed.

With a smile he pushes you back. You bounce against the bed and smile back at him. "Nah. Besides, it's time to see more of that delicious flesh of yours."

You pout a little. You had actually enjoyed it. "Aw."

He tugs harshly on your skirt and you laugh when your legs are free. The laugh devolves to breathy surprise when he spreads your legs. His hands run up your thighs and your head rolls back.

You lift your face, watching him roughly caress your skin. He leans against the bed. His eyes watch you before he gives a hard slap inside your thigh. Your head snaps back with a cry of surprise.

Sans rumbles and hits the same spot again. You squirm a little, moaning softly as pleasure quickly chases the sting. He slaps your other thigh and you cry out, shoulders pressing against the bed. He lets you catch your breath, your head rolling to look at him before he lands another blow.

"Ah! Fuck...n-no, don't stop." You pant as he sits up, kneeling between your deeply stinging thighs. His cool skin is a mixed relief.

He chuckles at you. "Oh, I'm just getting started, baby."

You give a small sound when his cock presses against your needful entrance. "Well, well, someone's already excited." He says with a smug expression. "Completely soaked."

You laugh a little at yourself, adjusting your arms beneath your back. Your breathing picks up again as he very slowly unties the knot at the top of your corset. The tension against your torso is suddenly lessened as the ribbon comes undone.

"I wonder if you'll scream louder with more air in your lungs." He remarks as he rips the ribbon from its laces. "C-can if yo-you want me to." You say as he pulls the corset from underneath you.

His eyes narrow lustfully as he takes in your bare chest. "You bet your sweet tits I do." He breathes before bending over you, kissing and biting at your bare skin. You laugh, brokenly moaning when he bites down harder.

Those sharp teeth pinch sinfully against your skin. One of his hands travels lower, he rakes his nails down your sensitive thigh as he bites beneath your breast. You cry out, eyes shutting tight. He growls in reply, teeth traveling higher as he slaps your skin. "F-FUCK!"

His free hand finds its way to your breast as his tongue trails higher to your neck. You pant hard, twisting to bare your neck for him. "Mm, good girl." He growls against your ear before he bites into the crook of your neck.

Your toes curl. He harshly slaps your thigh again, digging his nails in after. You scream, squirming under him as pain is quickly rewired to pleasure. "Harder." Your chest heaves.

"Where, kitten?"

"All." You reply stupidly, not thinking straight.

His teeth worry the same spot, the bruise blooming straight to near ecstasy. A hard blow against your inner-thigh makes your muscles tremble. His fingers roll your nipple and lightning bolts spark through your veins.

You moan loudly, uninhibited to let him know you approved. God, you didn't want him to stop. It was like your body was a circuit for pleasure. You roll your hips involuntarily, needing him to complete that circuit.

"Sans, Sans please." You whine, squirming under his touch.

The hand on your chest grips your hair, tugging your head back. "Say it. Say what you want." He tells you, breathing hard.

"Please, please I need it..." You whine again, closing your eyes when his cock throbs against your clit. "Please, please..."

"Say it." He repeats, pulling harder on your hair. You gasp at the feeling and lose your words. He smiles arrogantly and lands another blow on your thigh. You scream shortly, throwing your head back and moaning at the pull against your scalp.

Your body falls back against the bed and you try to remember how to talk. "I...I need you...inside. Please, please Sans I-! OH SHHHIT!" Your back arches as he shoves his fingers into you around your panties. He pumps his hand and growls before biting down on your breast.

"AH! Oh God..." You tremble under him. "I...fuck...I'm gonna..." The rope binding your arms creaks as your body tenses. Sans moves to your nipple, rolling it between his sharp teeth before biting against your skin. The hand in your hair shifts to your jaw, slowly tightening around your throat.

He shoves against your neck, not enough to completely choke but enough to get that sudden spike of adrenaline.

Your walls begin to tighten and your breath is stolen in a wash of white light. You scream wordlessly as you cum around the rough thrust of his fingers.

When you fall limp and drenched to the bed he smiles down at you. He flexes his left hand, the one that had stroked so skillfully inside you. "You got tight." He tells you.

You take it as the compliment it is and give a small laugh, still struggling to catch your breath. "How's your arms?"

You swallow, trying to moisten your dry throat. "Stiff." You reply.

"Let's roll you over and check." He rolls you to your stomach and you flop like a dead fish with a soft groan. "Squeeze your fists."

You flex your hands easily and he trails his fingers over the rope. "You okay? Your skin still looks normal."

You nod drowsily before verbally confirming. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

He sweeps the hair from your face, reaching over you to grab the condom foil from the nightstand. Your pulse quickens again. You adjust, twisting to watch him slowly slide the rolled rubber down the length of him. You're surprised it fit.

He tugs your panties down your legs. Standing beside the bed he strips off his shorts and boxers. You swallow thickly again and smile at him as he slowly crawls back onto the bed.

"Mm, ready to cum for me again?" He grabs your hips and hauls your ass in the air. You yelp in surprise at the sudden position change. You try to mentally prepare yourself but you're interrupted by a hard slap to your ass cheek.

"Ahnnnngh...!" You groan into the bed.

"I asked you a question." His hands massage your cheeks as he brings himself closer. You feel the coolness of his skin against yours, and the firmness of his dick resting on your back. "Yes." You reply easily.

"Hm. Didn't really sound like you wanted it. Gonna hurt a mans' feelings." He slaps your other cheek and you cry out against the mattress.

A thrill runs through you and you smile back at him. You let the yawn tugging at your jaw win. "I dunno, I'm a little tired to be honest." You tease.

He gives a dry chuckle and licks his teeth. "Alright. I'll make you eat those words." He adjusts his dick so it slides slowly between your thighs, your breath hitches when the head brushes your warm wetness. "But that was just the warm-up, kitten." His hands grip your hips before he thrusts deep into you.

You cry sharply at the sensation of being stretched and moan lowly into the bed. You were still sensitive after the orgasm he brought you through. "Damn..." Sans sighs. You roll your eyes back to him and he smiles. That hunger is back in his eyes as he sinks himself completely.

You moan again, he filled you so entirely. He doesn't give you much time to adjust to the feeling before he starts pounding into you, really fucking you. You give loud, open-mouthed moans each time you fill your lungs. You can't stop yourself.

Your thoughts roll uselessly and suddenly you can feel that peak approaching. Your fists clench and the rope creaks again under the strain as your muscles begin to tremble. You pant hard, so close. You grit your teeth, drool runs down your chin and...he pulls out.

You fall limp in confused frustration. A bitterness sets in as you realize your satisfaction was so close and torn away.

"Wh-why?" You try to ask but a slap to your ass is your reply. You yelp, your limp body wasn't expecting that.

"You didn't sound so sure about cumming again when I asked, so I figured you didn't want to."

You groan and try to roll onto your back to glare at him better. He pins you down with a hand against the back of your neck. You shiver as he leans his body weight over you and growls against your ear. "So, you ready to cum for me again?"

"Y-yes! Fuck yes."

He purrs and goosebumps sprint over your skin. "You sure? Because I can keep going without you."

"No! Please...Please, I wanna cum for you again." Your eyes roll as you lick your lips. "I want you to fuck me harder. Harder the better. Please." You'd had partners similar to this, you'd learned quickly the quickest way to get what you wanted was to just flat-out beg. Work them up and you'd be satisfied for twice as long.

You feel him shiver against you and the pressure on your neck tightens. "Whatever you say, baby girl." He shifts his weight and you feel him tugging at the rope on your arms. "Just gotta let your muscles breathe a bit first. And maybe cool that engine. I wanna get you worked up all over again."

You close your eyes at the thought.

He tosses the rope to the floor and you wince as you pull your arms away from your back. You aren't surprised to see the rope pattern indented on your skin, or the rawness of it. You savor the feeling as you stretch your arms.

Sans' flips you to your back and his hands trace your arms as he nudges your legs apart with his knees. The soft sensation against raw skin makes your toes curl. Your back arches when he slams himself home. You hadn't expected him to be that sneaky, sliding himself into you without a hand to guide him in.

He instantly picks up the hard and heavy rhythm from earlier, his hands pin your wrists over your head. You try to hold back, biting hard into your lip as you moan pathetically. "Let it out. C'mon, scream for me." He growls, bending over you to bite at your neck.

You moan brokenly when his teeth actually sink in. It was like an explosion of heat under your skin. He pulls back, licking blood from his teeth and you tremble in his grip. "Kiss me." You tell him.

Sans releases your wrists and grabs your face, pulling you tightly against him. Your lips crash, he growls and you moan. The taste of your blood on his tongue is tangy and metallic. Your hands grip his shoulders, your legs tangle with his.

Unable to speak through the intensely passionate kiss, your nails dig into his skin as your body tenses. He sits up, your nails rake down his back as he pins you by your neck. His other hand pins your hips as he continues to fuck you into the bed.

"Ah! F-fffuck!" Your hands scramble for something to grip and find his shoulders. You pull him down to you as the orgasm hits you. You scream, holding him tight against your writhing body. His movements jerk and somehow become harder. You grit your teeth at the almost too-much sensation of a third climax peaking right after the other.

"D-don't stop! AH! Ha-harder, Sans. I-I!

"Bite me." He groans, his hands gripping your shoulders for leverage as he chased his own end. You don't hesitate and bite against the swell of invisible flesh at the crook of his neck as your third orgasm rocked through you.

"Oh, fuck..." The soft exclamation and a tremor through his body are the only outward expression of his climax. You dislodge your jaw and taste sweet blood on your tongue. Sans' hips give a few weak thrusts before he stops. His face is love-drunk as he rolls away from you to collapse on the bed.

You both struggle to catch your breath.

He surprises you by rolling to his side and pulling you to him. Sweat still rolls down his skull as he props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you. "How you feel?" He asks.

You laugh breathlessly and kiss him. He licks the blood from your lips and you fall against the bed again. "I am...lead." You finally say.

He chuckles. "How bad do you crash?" He wipes a few tears from your face you didn't know had been shed. You shrug. "After this? I'm gonna need a bit to recover."

"Want me to hang around or go?"

You pull him close. "I'm a cuddler."

"I can handle that. Lemme take a leak and I'll be back." He makes you crawl under the blankets before he leaves. It was a good call because you're trembling when he returns. His sockets widen as he slides in beside you.

"S-sometimes I sh-shiver." You explain as he tucks you close against him. "No worries, kitten."

You can feel sleep creeping in. The kind of sleep that you'd actually get good rest. "So 'Ms. Grey'," He teases. "did I manage to ruin your mood?" You snort and tuck yourself into a tighter ball. "Nope. You'll have to try harder next time."

He chuckles and rests his chin on your head. "Sounds like a plan."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno, there might be a few more of these. They're kind of fun. I love UF!Sans sooo much!


	3. Doin' Dirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Date with the surly skeleton after your one-night stand. Some lewdness in public, lots of fore-play, a little bit of magic and some edging. Dom!Sans for this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Still running with Maroon 5 songs as titles, in case anyone's curious. Chapter name was a tie between this song and "New Love" because of the chorus of New Love is so Sans' personality. "What the fuck, I got nothing to lose. I'm a slave to the way that you move, ooh. I'm an addict for all that you do. You're the only drug I wanna do, yeah" But the rest of the song didn't really fit the chapter. So "Doin' Dirt" won.

You roll over with a groan when your phone chimes against the nightstand. The rattling on the tabletop pushes the last traces of your dream from your brain. It something intense enough that you realize your panties are wet when you sit-up.

You rub at your eyes and blink hard at your phone, trying to read the texts. You'd saved Sans as Big Boned in your contacts.

_*heya._

_*you free tonight?_

Your heart leaps to your throat.

_*Hell yeah I am. What's up, big bones?_

_*been a few weeks, wouldn't mind getting reacquainted._

You swallow thickly before brushing hair from your face. "Mm, neither would I." You say to yourself, biting your bottom lip.

 _*What's the plan?_ You texted back. You certainly didn't mind him making some decisions again.

_*steak and shots?_

You snort, shoving up from your bed to walk to the closet. _*Sounds like a plan._

_*i'll pick you up around nine._

That gave you a few hours to get ready.

_*Can't wait._

*

You relish the flash of hunger in Sans' eyes when you step out of the elevator into the lobby. Your hair and make-up were immaculate. The crimson strapless dress hugged all your curves and ended half-way down your thighs. A faux-corset front pushed your breasts up higher and the black ribbon would draw anyone's eyes to your cleavage.

You stroll confidently toward him, watching his eyes follow the sway of your hips.

He was dressed as casually as the last time you saw him. The only difference was his black t-shirt had been traded for a blood-red sweater. He was still in gym shorts, tennis shoes and that huge black coat.

"Damn." He breathed with raised sockets. "I thought I'd fooled myself since I hadn't seen you in so long. But yeah, you're definitely as hot as I remembered."

You laugh shortly with a roll of your eyes. "C'mon, Sans." You slide your arm through his. It's more solid than you remembered.

He hailed a cab and you two talked easily on the ride to the restaurant he'd picked out. You were surprised you hadn't seen it before. But other than some old school friends and the bars you weren't very social.

"Been here?" He asked, taking your hand as you slid out of the cab.

"Such a gentleman." You remark with a smirk. He tilts his head toward you. "And no."

He gives you a shark-toothed grin. "Oh, you're gonna love it."

The heavy door was muffling a loud rumble of voices and music. It wasn't unpleasantly loud, but it was more than you expected. He asks the host for a table on the second floor. "The first floor is the bar, second floor is a little quieter." He explains.

You tread carefully up the curving staircase in your heels and Sans takes the opportunity to steady you with a hand on your ass. You smile coyly over your shoulder and he gives you a small squeeze with a lusty leer. When the host leads you to an open table in the corner, you slide your hand into the one Sans had on your butt.

The host leaves menus with a polite smile and you sit in the booth. You scoot into the corner with your back against the wall and Sans sits beside you. You realize the booths are tall enough to create a small, private space.

"They've got flights of different alcohol here." Sans says, leaning into you to point at them on the menu. "Ones that'll go good with different types of food and shit." You laugh at his casual description.

"Hm, this one sounds fun." You point at a tasting of spiced rums and chocolates. "Oh! Or the steak and whiskey one."

"Why not both?"

"My good sir, do you intend on getting me drunk and taking advantage of me?" You look up at him innocently with hand over your bare chest. He chuckles and slowly licks his teeth with that blood-red tongue. You struggle to hide how the simple act makes your breath quicken.

He leans closer, one of his cool hands running up your bare thigh. "That, and so much more." He growls against your ear. You shiver, closing your eyes.

"Are yo-? Oh, um." You hear your waitress stumble over her words and your eyes open with a bright smile. Sans plants a quick kiss against your cheek and you playfully slap his chest.

"I-I'm Hanna, I'll be your waitress this evening." She quickly recovers. "Are you ready to order?" She looks at you both with her little notebook and pen ready.

Sans orders the flights and an appetizer. "Are you easily embarrassed?" He asks you conversationally when the waitress leaves.

You frown at the strange question. "It depends on what's happening?" You shrug. "If I fuck something up, like I fall or something I'm the first to laugh."

"Well, last time you said you weren't into humiliation."

"Ah, that kind of embarrassment." You give a small laugh. "Its a serious turn-off when someone starts insulting me."

He pauses thoughtfully. "So, it's just the insults that're weird?"

You shrug again. "I guess so?"

"So if hypothetically..." His cool calloused hand is on your knee, his thumb strokes your skin. Just that touch is enough to get your heart pounding. You keep your face evenly interested in his face, watching his eyes narrow. "Hypothetically?" You question with a smile.

His fingers crawl slowly higher up your thigh and stop. You rest your chin on the back of your hand. "If hypothetically I couldn't wait to get you home but I also wanted to take you on a date cause I said I would. Would it be too much," his fingers toy with the hem of your dress and you have to close your eyes for a second to recover. "to get you going right here, right now?"

"Mm, someones feeling restless." You tease.

He slides against you in the booth, pushing you closer to the wall before leaning down and kissing you. You hold back the moan in your throat when his hand holds you fast against his face. His tongue forces your lips apart and your thighs open at the gentle urging of his fingers.

He lightly pecks your lips and leans his left elbow against the table. It was his left hand that had been crawling so tenaciously between your legs.

You blink for a second in a daze before the waitress returns with water and the appetizer. "The flights should be out soon, we're just waiting on the steaks. Need anything else?"

"Nope, we're good." Sans replies.

Hanna smiles before turning away. Sans watches you recover with an arrogant smile, sliding one of the glasses of water across the table at you. "Thirsty?" He asks with barely restrained laughter.

"Jerk." You laugh, adjusting yourself before taking one of the lettuce wraps Sans had ordered. It's better than you expected. "You love it." he replies.

You're on edge, waiting for him to make another move after you finish the appetizer. He makes conversation, asking about the hotel you'd inherited and other personal things.

"This is almost like a real-live date." You remark. He feigns hurt as Hanna returns with a huge platter balanced on her shoulder. She sets a 6 oz. steak in front of each of you, and a plate of assorted chocolates. Four plates of six half-shots each go next. She explains that you drink the shots from left to right and "cleanse your palette" between each shot by eating either the steak or corresponding chocolate.

You frown thoughtfully at the plates. "Huh, it's like wine and cheese only better."

Sans laughs at that. "Told you you'd like it."

You start with the steak and sigh at the savory taste before taking one of the shots. "Mm, good call on the steak and whiskey." You tell him. "But you're still a giant tease." You add, cutting into your steak again.

He smiles like he was waiting all that time for you say just that. Before you take another bite he deliberately traces his arm down the length of your arm. A cold jolt makes your spine straighten, a deep warmth chases after it and sinks behind your belly button. He leans close to kiss your neck. "Say you don't want it and I'll stop." He breathes against your skin.

His fingers trail up your thigh, slowly pulling up the edge of your dress. That same cold jolt sparks from his touch before sinking warm into your muscles and reaching through your body to sit behind your navel. But not before caressing the sensitive spots against your pelvic bone first.

Your eyes flutter as he kisses your ear, his teeth pinching. You grip your knife and fork tightly as his fingers gently tap against your panties. The sensation draws the warmth rolling softly in your gut to your clit and you gasp. "Like a toy without the hardware." He whispers smugly, pulling away to take a shot.

You blink hard, your thighs sliding together as the warm pulse against your clit steals your breath. It was like something was gently, but firmly stroking your g-spot while rubbing against your clit. The warmth just sat there, pulsing and rolling through your nerve endings while Sans watched with hungry eyes.

"Steaks' gonna get cold." he said playfully.

You take the bite that had been speared on your fork all this time. It's a brief distraction from the building tension in your core. It was the same as leaving a vibrator on low in your pants, you could ignore it for a few seconds at a time before it would suddenly grab your attention again.

You take your next few shots and finish off the savory steak before you speak. You just had the feeling he was going to try and get you to react if you tried. "So thi-" You clench your jaw shut when the warmth strokes your clit more intently.

Sans gives a rumbling laugh.

You clear your throat, crossing your legs as you take the last shot of whiskey. "So this is that magic I've been he-hearing about?" Wow, good for you! You only stuttered once. Your voice trembles and you're breathing harder than is probably appropriate in public.

He just smiles back at you before taking his first shot of rum.

Well, two could play at this game. You grip the seat of the booth tightly as you reach for a small rectangle of chocolate. The more intense stroking is much harder to ignore. You bite the chocolate in half, mm dark and rich. Your hand finds Sans' thigh and you eat the rest of the rectangle, lifting the shot glass.

You can feel him stiffen under the table as your fingers crawl closer to his crotch. You take your shot of rum and pause a second to appreciate the taste. The palm of your hand slides over his half-erect dick and he sucks air sharply through his teeth. You rest your hand in his lap, smiling as you feel his pulse throbbing.

You see the waitress coming and you slide your hand to his hip, pretending to hug him as she dropped off the check. Your hand balls into a fist around his coat. Your thighs tremble with the tension still growing in your core.

"Do you guys need anything else tonight?" Hanna asks pleasantly oblivious to the lewdness right in front of her.

You manage a shake of your head and Sans fishes his wallet from his coat. "No thanks, Hanna. We're just gonna finish up and head out."

"Alrighty, have a great night you two." She replies cheerily. The moment her back is turned you begin to pull away from Sans. He takes another shot of rum and while his head is tilted back you slide your hand into the front of his shorts.

He slams the shot glass down hard on the table and closes his eyes for a few seconds as you gently pump your hand, nuzzling into his shoulder. Anyone who happened to look at you two would think you were just hugging him. But jeeze, it was hard to get your hand completely around him.

Sans inhales shakily and looks down at you. You smile mischievously and your grip on him tightens reflexively when the warmth below your pubic bone expands. Sans actually gasps at the feeling. It feels like something warm grinding against your entrance. You manage to speak without your voice betraying the need making your legs tremble. "Give me a shot, I don't wanna move my hand." You tell him.

He laughs and reaches for one of your last two shots. He takes the chocolate square and lightly traces your lips with the edge before you take it in your teeth. You giggle, pumping your hand as he brings the shot to your mouth. He falters just a little before dumping the rum into your mouth.

He doesn't bother with the chocolate as he takes his last two shots in quick succession. "Let's go." He growls, his hands pull your face close for a kiss. You take the opportunity to quickly work the rock-hard dick in your hand. He groans into you and you shiver.

"Fuck," he breathes as he pulls back. You pull your hand free and take the last shot of rum as Sans pays for dinner with too much cash, Hanna was getting a hell of a tip tonight. You barely have time to grab your purse before he's tugging you earnestly from the booth. You laugh as you smooth the hem of your dress back down over your ass.

He leads you toward the bathrooms and for a second you think he's going to try to fuck you in a stall, but the restaurant suddenly fades in a wash of black. A chill presses against your skin and after a disorienting second you're standing in an unfamiliar bedroom.

Sans turns and pulls your face to his. You push back and he growls, trying to hold you firm. "Wait, what the fuck just happened?" You demand, finally getting his attention.

He blinks down at you. "I can teleport. It's more magic. Don't worry, it's my place." He pulls you close again, not letting you get away this time. You accept the blunt answer and lose yourself in the deep kiss. You drop your purse, slide out of your heels and start tugging at his shorts. When he tries to protest you grab his dick and he's like putty in your hands.

For about two seconds.

He snatches a handful of your hair and jerks your head back with a loud growl. You gasp, silently enjoying the feel of his sharp teeth against your neck. Your hand gently reminds him of where it is. You smile with pride at the sound he makes.

His other hand grips your neck and your eyes flutter shut, biting your lips. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He growls against your ear before squeezing slowly tighter. Just as the pressure builds in your head he lets up. "F-fuck yes." You breathe.

Sans pushes against you until you're forced to walk or fall. You stop when your legs hit his bed. He shoves you back and you pull him down with you. He kisses you hard, tearing at your clothes. The magic you'd nearly forgotten about returns to the front of your thoughts. You moan pathetically through the harsh, sharply metallic kiss. The warmth pusles inside and you fumble for his waistband as your dress shreds under his hands.

"Really are desperate." He gives a rumbling laugh before swatting your hand away roughly. He presses his weight over you, making it impossible to reach him now. His hand tangles in your hair and you give a sharp cry, your hands ball into fists around his coat. You can feel him rock-hard against your bare skin through his shorts.

You hook your feet over his hips and hold him tight, his rough grinding gives you some temporary relief. His teeth drag against your shoulder as he jerks your head sideways to bare your neck. The need in your core grows as he bites up your neck to under your jaw.

"Please, please fuck me."

"Not yet."

You could cry. " _Pleeease_." You whine, breathing hard as you shift your hips against his.

"Not. Yet." He quietly growls with finality. You whine again and he stops moving. "Oh, I'm sorry. Should I cater to your every need, give you a halfhearted orgasm and pass-out like every other one-night stand?"

You stare breathlessly back in those scarlet pupils as he tilts his head. "Or should I make you earn it?" He bares his teeth as he pulls your hair again, shocking a gasp out of you. "Make you cry and beg for more until you can't remember who you are." You lick your lips and stare up at him.

He gives a predatory smile. "That's what I thought."

Sans slides down your body, biting hard against your skin. You lift your head when the weight of him is gone. He kneels between your outstretched legs on the floor. You give a small yelp of surprise when he yanks on your ankles to drag you closer to him. You nearly come off the bed entirely and he presses his open mouth over you.

Your head snaps back with a toe-curling moan as his cold tongue caresses your clit, sliding lower between your lips and stroking inside your walls. Your back bows and your hands ball around the blanket. He spreads your knees, growling as he rolls his tongue.

"A-ah! FUCK!" You cry out when he harshly slaps your thigh. The magic sparks to your toes at the impact and he hits you again, and again. You breathe harder, struggling for air between the stinging blows until that blissful high begins to spark. His tongue still works you higher.

"S-Sans..." You pant.

"Hmphmm." He warns, shaking his head between your thighs. You shudder as your muscles begin to tremble. "I-I ca-can't unless you ssstop!" This was a first, no one had ever told you not to cum before.

He shakes his head again and you struggle to hold yourself back as he earnestly continues. You stare intently at the ceiling and start searching for shapes in the textured paint. Your fists ache from your grip, your muscles tremble begging for release. You shut your eyes tightly as your back arches off the bed.

Just when you feel you're about to break he pulls away. You fall limp to the bed and try to catch your breath.

Sans stands and strokes the still stinging skin of your thighs. "Such a good girl." He purrs. You smile at the praise and watch him slowly strip naked. "To the headboard." He says with a tilt of his head to the wall. Your muscles protest, your whole body feels bitter and tense after the denied pleasure, but you manage to lay against the pillows near the metal bars of the headboard.

"Mm, damn I missed you, kitten. So obedient." He says with a smirk as he climbs over you.

"Shut up and fuck me already." You shoot back.

His sockets lift in surprise before narrowing. "With a mouth like that, I think you want to be punished."

You shiver when the head of his dick rubs against your clit. "Shit." Your hands find it so natural to grip the bars of the headboard as he continues to tease you. Your eyes shut with a pitiful sound and he slaps your already welted thigh.

You scream shortly, moaning when pleasure chases after the pain. "Keep those eyes open." You give a small smile before defiantly closing your eyes. "Oh, is that how it is?" Your eyes open and your head snaps back as he shoves his cock, full-hilt into you.

You brace your arms with the headboard as he pulls one of your legs over his shoulder before bending over you. He drove screams from your lips before pinning your neck against the bed. Your heart pounds harder in your chest at the pressure. His magic sparked brightly in your fingertips as he let you catch your breath before starting again.

You can feel yourself coming undone. "Sans, I'm...I'm close."

"Not until I say so." He tells you with his thumb harshly stroking your jaw.

You bite back a disappointed whine as you fight your body. He makes it difficult as he leans back and thrusts harder. Your body gives its first tell-tale spasm and you scream in frustration at the wall behind you. You pant hard as you struggle to keep yourself from falling over that edge.

Sans pushes against your collar bone when you shove your peak down for the fourth time. You bring pleading eyes to him and he nods. "Go ahead."

Permission given, you throw your head back as you're suddenly aware of how deep and filling his strokes were. Just as you're about to scream his hand grips tightly around your throat. Your body shakes beneath him. "Holy...fuck!" He lets you go to grab the headboard for support as he slams into you.

You scream his name as your walls spasm and your body rocks against his. When you finally come down from the unbelievable high Sans stares down at you blankly. Sweat trails down his skull as he still breathes hard over you. After a moment his arms begin to shake and he gives a short laugh before pulling out of you and rolling sideways. He narrowly misses landing on top of you, not that you would've complained.

You stare up at the ceiling and try to remember how to move again.

There's a soft snap and the blankets aren't underneath you but on top of you. Sans pulls you against his side and sighs drowsily. "You definitely kept your word." You finally manage to say. He chuckles against your skin and you close your eyes at the goosebumps that deep baritone raise.

"Always do, kitten."

You smile at the pet name, it was already starting to grow on you.

"Where'd the magic go?" You ask sleepily, suddenly curious.

"Huh?" He sounded nearly asleep. You turn to look at him, even that small movement makes your body ache, and he's having trouble keeping his eyes open. "Takes too much concentration. I just let it go." He replies before tucking his hand under your side and pulling you even more snugly against his cool skin.

You yawn, smiling at the slight pain in your neck before you too fall fast asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen everyone's comments and THANK YOU for taking the time! If I wasn't such a pansy, I'd get a psued or go off anon and say something, but I'm kinda embarrassed. lol.


	4. Tangled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FEELINGS
> 
> This starts immediately after the first chapter, so after the reader tops Sans.

You wake up and are surprised to feel Sans still wrapped tightly around you. His usually cool to the touch skin is warm. He's sleeping soundly. You can see the thick marks still bruising his skin in blood-red bruises.

You blink a few times to clear your vision. A stubborn red glow is clinging to your sight.

Sans groans sullenly, rolling to his back as you sit up. Your eyes widen at the deep-red light against his chest. You tilt your head, it looked like an upside-down heart right against his sternum.

"Sans! Wake up!" You whisper urgently, tapping repeatedly at his shoulder.

He yawns and looks up at you. "What?"

You point at his chest. He doesn't seem very concerned. " 's fine." He replies reaching for your waist.

"What the shit, Sans?"

He drowsily rolls, trying to spoon against your body. " 's fine." He repeats. "Jus' go back to sleep."

"I can't, for one thing I'm awake and for another I don't know what's going on."

Sans groans and flops on his back again. "It's my soul." He tells you, rubbing tiredly at his face. He lays his hand over it and the glow quickly disappears. He shrugs. "Sometimes it happens."

"What?"

He sits up and yawns, stretching his arms over his head. He winces and chuckles when some sore muscle is pulled. "Shit. You did a number on me yesterday. Color me impressed." His voice has that gravelly tone men sometimes get in the morning. He walks his hand up your arm, running through your hair to kiss you.

It was an echo of the tender kiss he'd given you last night. You close your eyes for a moment as he pulls back. His pupils stare back at you with something you hadn't seen there before.

"Why was your soul showing?" You ask when you shake the daze from your brain.

Sans rolls his eyes and rolls out of bed. He shakes his head as he walks to the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower, where do you wanna go for lunch?"

"Muffet's I guess." You call back.

*

You sip your espresso and lean closer to Sans across the small metal table of the cafe. The thin jacket and skin-tight top rub your raw skin pleasantly. You'd found a skirt in the clothes you'd left at his place on accident, but it left a gap between the hem and your knee-high socks. If someone looked they would see the scratches down your thighs. But who was going to look that closely at your legs when your scarf didn't cover the still healing bites on your neck?

"This morning. Explain."

"Jesus, you won't drop it will you?" He scoffs, running a hand over his skull.

You stare expectantly at him. You'd got here at a lull in the lunch rush and were the only people on the outdoor balcony. It meant less people staring at you both, though the spider-monster who owned the cafe could help giggling at the bites on your neck. You got the impression it was more normal for monsters than humans from her reaction. Maybe that was why monsters always dressed in so many layers?

"Just tell me." You prompt when he doesn't say anything.

He sighs, shaking his head. "You'll get freaked out. It's a monster thing."

You scoff. "I'm dating an almost seven-foot skeleton-monster who I met in a BDSM bar."

His sockets rise slightly in agreement. "Well, yeah, that's true." He concedes. "But I don't wanna tell you."

You pout and he laughs. "At least that's an honest answer." You reply flatly.

You manage to chat over lunch without pressing him for an explanation. You even surprise yourself at your restraint by not asking when you head back to your place and he goes to work. (He still hadn’t explained what he did for work either).

But the moment you get home you're on your computer searching through news stories and reports about monsters. You find some information about their magic, some propaganda about them being demons from hell (ha!), but nothing really explains why a soul would show up outside of a fight.

*

You stab at your lo-mein with chopsticks and frown at Sans. He sits comfortably beside you eating orange chicken and completely absorbed in the movie. It's been a little over two weeks since the night you topped him.

He had been calmer, more gentle, less abrasive. It was beginning to weird you out. Sometimes it took a while for someone to recover after a long or rough play-date but Sans had been topped before, he said so.

"Okay, it's killing me. What's up with you?" You ask, pausing the movie and setting your take-out box on the glass coffee table.

He hesitates with a rice-covered bite of chicken half-way to his mouth. "Um, what do you mean?"

You make a face. "Seriously?"

He sets his food down and sighs heavily. "Is this about the soul thing again?"

"It’s about the everything."

He frowns at your weird sentence.

"You've been different since then. All, I dunno, calm and gentle. You haven't even made dirty jokes around me." You sit up straighter on the couch, letting your feet touch the floor. "What's wrong, Sans?"

He sighs again, running his hands over his face. "Can't I just like, enjoy hanging out with you?" He asks.

"Of course. But we did that before too, and you've just been...different."

"Fuck. You're like a dog with a bone."

"Was that a joke?"

He snorts, shaking his head as he chews his lip in annoyance.

"You don't have to tell me, I mean I'm still having fun hanging out. I'm just kind of weirded out that you're not acting like you usually do."

Sans groans and falls back on the couch. "So monster souls. We're made of magic, the souls are a manifestation of our true self. When we fight, we show a piece of ourselves. And uh sometimes when we trust someone or feel safe we show ourselves too."

You frown in thought for a moment. "So...so why are you acting different, because you trust me? That’s a big part of uh, basically everything we do. Us trusting we won’t kill each other in bed."

He shakes his head, closes his eyes for a moment and suddenly stands. "I'm gonna go." He grabs his jacket from the back of the couch. You have a spark of realization.

Oh. Duh.

"Wait!" You scramble to follow him. You take his hand before he punches the button for the elevator. "Sans, jeeze. Just wait." You look up at him. "You giant dork. Just say it."

He growls and pulls his hand away from you, hitting the elevator call button.

Fine. You would say it. "You love me." You tell him matter-of-factly. He stares down at you as the elevator doors open with a soft 'ding'.

After a long, still moment he says "Yeah, but you love me too," with enough confidence that you almost believe he knew that before he said it.

You can feel an awkward heat flushing your cheeks. You open your mouth to reassure him but he interrupts.

“And that’s not somethin’ I ever wanted.” He looks down at you with a cold expression. “I’m…sorry.” He looks away from you before stepping quickly into the elevator.

“Wait one _fucking_ second!” You yell in disbelief, shoving your hand in the way of the closing doors. The rubber safety bumpers bounce against your arm as you impatiently shove them aside. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and then leave. Love isn’t the worst thing in the world, you know.”

“I don’t want love, okay?” He shrugs angrily.

“Bullshit.” You snap back. His sockets rise slightly. “If you didn’t want some kind of connection you wouldn’t have asked to see me again.”

“What makes you think that, hm?” He asks. “What makes you think you even know the first thing about me?”

“We’ve been dating for-“

“Fucking. We’ve been _fucking_ ,” he corrects with an icy tone.

“We’ve been _dating_ ,” you continue, staring up at him unwaveringly. “for nearly four months. We haven’t left each other’s side for the past two.”

“Then how old am I?”

The question catches you off-guard and you stutter in surprise.

“What about my favorite song? Allergic to anything? Where do I work? How about my brother’s name?” He adds with a tone that makes it clear you won’t know the answers.

“I don’t know because you don’t tell me!” You finally manage to spit back.

“Yup. There’s a reason for that.” Sans rolls his eyes dismissively and pushes you back with two fingers against your collar bone. The force is enough to make you stumble backwards out of the elevator.

You scoff and shove an arm through the doors again to stop it. “Sans, this is childish. We can talk about this.”

“We can, but I don’t want to. I don’t want a relationship. I don’t want _you_. Got it?” He snaps harshly and vanishes from the elevator with a soft “pop” and a cold draft of air against your skin.

You turn, looking for him in the penthouse. You stomp away from the elevator and scream shortly in frustration. Finding your phone on the coffee table you quickly tap Sans’ number to call him. You pace angrily as the phone rings and rings.

After the third call, it goes straight to voicemail. You tangle your free hand in your hair and stop pacing as you leave a surprisingly calm message. “Sans come back here so we can talk. This doesn’t have to be the end of things. So, we care about each other, big deal. That doesn’t have to change anything else in our lives, seriously. Ugh,” you pause to run a hand over your face. “Just…call me back.”

You hang up and stare at your phone for a long moment in shock before tossing it back on the couch.

“Did that really just happen?” You ask yourself. The movie was still paused, take-out still spread across the coffee table half-eaten.

You’re not sure what to do with yourself now. No longer hungry or interested in the movie, and your gut tells you that Sans isn’t coming back. You turn off the TV and march purposefully to your bedroom.

The best cure for too many emotions is just to turn them off for a few hours. And the easiest way you’d found to turn off emotions is sex. You pull your hair back in a tight bun and dress to kill.

*

You sit on the edge of Kathy’s bed and only half-regret how rough you were. You glance back at her spread-eagle on the bed, drenched in sweat and smiling blissfully around the ball gag in her mouth. Welts glow an angry, raw red against her thighs and you know her back is probably still bleeding from the bites you’d left while using the strap-on. Seemed like Sans had rubbed off on you a little too much.

The rest of your regret vanishes and something mean bubbles up. You have the sudden urge to turn her stupid smile into a muffled scream of pain, real pain. If you were quick enough you could make it seem like you were working her up again.

You blink and shake the urge away, tugging at the thick knots you’d tied around her arms. Kathy blinks drowsily up at you and you can’t help but smile hungrily down at her. Her breasts and torso were intricately tied to restrict movement and squeeze sensitive places. You leave those knots alone and unclasp the gag.

She flexes her jaw and giggles as she sits up. You roll to your back and before she can speak you push her head between your legs. She happily obliges.

You’re surprised how quickly she makes you cum…but you’re not surprised it wasn’t very good. It fell completely flat from what you really wanted. But since Sans, no one had really satisfied you unless you dealt some serious damage first.

You take her chin and wipe fluids from her face with a lopsided smile. “Good girl, let’s get those bites cleaned.”

Katy holds up her curly hair as you start untying her torso knots. You help her shower off, making sure to get soap over the shallow teeth marks. “Turn, I’ll get you clean. If you want.” She offers. You hesitate but you let her massage your back with body wash.

After a while she slides her hands around your waist and rests her chin in the crook of your neck. You tense at the overly-familiar touch.

“You want to stay the night? I know a really great diner with some fantastic omelets.”

You break free of her grip and pull the curtain back, grabbing a towel to dry off. “I’ve gotta get back home, actually. Sorry.” You tell her.

She turns off the shower and gives a small smile as she flings the curtain back completely. “Gotta get back to the boyfriend, hm? I thought for sure he swept you off the market for good. But it’s nice to see you two around the scene again.”

You feel your guts turn to ice and you drop the towel to the floor, moving quickly to the bedroom to get dressed. The clothes stick to your still wet skin and your sneakers don’t want to go on the same way as before.

Kathy steps back into the bedroom naked, chewing her lip as you make your way to the hall. “I-I didn’t—hey! I’m sorry.” She calls after you before you slam her front door.

You rush down the stairs, tugging angrily at your jacket before you slow to a stop. _“…nice to see you two around the scene again…”_ Had she seen Sans somewhere? It had been nearly eight months since you’d seen him teleport out of your hotel elevator.

You turn and sprint back up the stairs three at a time and burst back into Kathy’s apartment. She jumps with a startled scream in the kitchen, trying to cover herself in reflex.

She relaxes when she recognizes you. “Oh, fuck. You scared me. I’m sorry about what I said, I didn’t know.”

You shake your head quickly and walk quickly toward her. “You said it was nice to see ‘you two’ around again? Have you seen Sans?” She backs up a few steps, unsettled by your intensity.

“Uh-uh…y-yeah. He’s been at the _Sugar Coated_ and a few of the other bars a few times when I was there.”

You resist the strong urge to grab her shoulders. “What other bars?”

She shrugs with a confused twist of her eyebrows. “I dunno, uh,” She closes her eyes. “ _The Cherry, Echoes,_ and oh!” Her eyes pop open and she beams. “He's at that bar outside the monster suburb. Uh, _Grillby’s Part Deux_. A LOT. Weird name.”

You kiss her quickly, surprising her and run from her apartment again.

You call a taxi excitedly and tell him to go to Grillby’s. You’d tried stopping at Sans’ apartment several times, but either his brother (Papyrus) said he wasn’t there or no one answered. After the first month, you stopped trying because it wasn’t working. He never answered your phone calls, not that you expected him to.

Your heart pounds in your throat the entire thirty minute ride. You just want to _see_ him again at the very least. There were only a few pictures of you two together but they didn’t match up to the real deal. You don’t know many easily hidden things about him, but you _do_ know him.

His teleportation had to have been how he was so easily avoiding you. If he walked into a bar or down a street and saw you, he’d just have to “poof” somewhere else before you saw him.

You feel your face set in determination. You were going to find him tonight, he might run away again, but you were going to see him and you were going to do your damndest to make him stay this time.

The taxi stops and you toss a couple crumpled hundred-dollar bills at him as you sprint out of the car. You barely stop to take in the bar before you shove through the front doors.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Wasn't sure about this chapter because I didn't know if I wanted to continue it after this, but it looks like I am. So here you go.


	5. Can't Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader's night goes a little sideways.

The atmosphere of the bar stops you in your tracks over the threshold. It’s like a punch straight to the chest that sends your heart fluttering faster than before and steals your breath. A creeping, tingling sensation pulses against your skin that you instantly recognize as magic.

Sight and sound are slow to process. The high ceilings of the bar expose support beams with monsters swinging from them in thick curtains of fabric. Some perform acrobatics, a few just swing lazily, stretching a foot or wing, or hand toward someone on the floor. You watch, transfixed, as an incredibly curvy white bunny with red eyes rolls expertly down a curtain, nearly hitting the floor. She stops, wrapped tightly and hanging upside down, to let a few patrons run their hands over her fur before tucking bills into the small pouch at her ankle.

Soft lounge music plays, and a tantalizing voice caresses your ears. After a few steadying breaths, you realize that not only did someone have their hand on your shoulder, but they were talking to you.

You come back to yourself quickly and turn to the dog towering over you. His furry paw covers your entire shoulder and part of your neck. He was wearing black jeans with a white tank-top tucked into the waist. His eyes furrow slightly as he leans closer to you, they search blindly and he sniffs lightly at your hair.

“I can feel you little lady, so playing dumb won’t work with me. What are you doing here? This is an invitation-only event.” He levels his unseeing eyes with yours, his muzzle curls back slightly and the gold hoops in his ears shine in the dim light. “And I don’t recognize your smell.” He growls lowly.

“I-I-I’m looki-looking for a friend.”

“Uh huh, sure you are, sweetheart.” He replies skeptically as he stands upright. He pulls back on your shoulder, turning you with his other massive paw toward the door again. “You can look some other time. Try tomorrow when we’re open to the public.”

You dig in your heels and try to duck out from under his grip. “No! You don’t understand, I didn’t even know this was happening! I just—please, I have to find him.”

“Don’t care.”

You groan in frustration before getting an idea. You drop to the floor to escape his grip and then scurry quickly between his legs.

You faintly hear him growl in frustration as you quickly make your way through the crowd. The bar is actually a restored warehouse, you realize as thinking clearer becomes easier under the weight of the heady magic. Your legs still wobble as you squeeze around cool monsters and sweating humans.

More than once you pass a semi-circle booth with a curtain drawn in front of it. All of the crushed velvet booths have curtains at the lowered ceiling above them. They took some serious inspiration from vampire movies for this place, you think.

You start to slow your pace and look around more as you keep pushing forward, trying to find Sans in the crowd, or even a wall.

You nearly run into a performer as he drops from a rafter on a black curtain. For a moment, his predatory smile and gleaming green cat eyes distract you. He purrs as he twists in the curtain until his back paws are outstretched toward you. His tortoiseshell fur shimmers over his lanky, flexing muscles. You fumble for your wallet, realizing it would be rude not to tip the guy after you nearly ruined his act. Distantly, you realize he thought the same as you put a few twenties into his pouch, but the rush of magic he shoved at you makes it hard to think clearly.

Before he begins his assent, you snatch his paw. “Holy shit, you’re soft.” You remark with awe as you completely lose your train of thought. He gives a positively feline smirk. “You smell like sex and cocoa butter.” He purrs, leaning close and rubbing his face against yours as he twists upside down.

“Thanks?” You reply, “I’m looking for someone.”

He rubs his face against your other cheek. “I’m someone, and I’m looking for someone interesting. You smell…complicated.” He pulls you close with a paw, claws dig lightly through your shirt.

Magic rushes over your skin and your knees wobble. You grab the hanging fabric for support and blink rapidly to clear your mind. “I-I oh…” You shiver as he licks lightly at your neck, his rough tongue makes goosebumps sprint over your skin.

“H-his name is Sans. He-he’s ah-!” Your words fade as the cats’ soft, hot fur brushes your skin. His paws begin to trail under your shirt and you can’t remember how to speak, or even make yourself stand upright.

His voice fills your ears, caresses your mind with silken strands. “What’s your name, cocoa butter?”

Your eyes flutter weakly, his paws stroke your cheeks and you mumble your name into his fur. A hot hand jerks you backward out of the soft embrace and your brain tumbles, struggling to fill in the cold gaps.

Your sight returns in dazzling clarity. The dog from the front door is towering over you again. “Found you.” He bares his teeth in a smile.

“Doggo, she is my guest.” The cat tells him with a smooth purr, placing his paw over your shoulders.

Your thoughts continue to clear as ‘Doggo’ leans down again, sniffing curiously at you. “I suppose she is. You should have marked her before she got here though.”

Doggo leaves quickly and the cat pulls you close once more. Now that he’s free of his curtain you can see he isn’t much taller than you. He tilts your chin up and your eyes flutter at the warm touch. “Mm, follow me.” He takes your hand and easily leads you through the crowd.

Slowly you pull away from the sweet, soft magic in your brain. Just in time for the cat to close the door in a small room, dominated by a full-size bed.

His expression falters when he turns back to you. “You alright?”

You can distantly hear the lounge music so you know you’re still in the bar. “Where are we?” You ask.

“The artists get rooms that are a little more private.” He tilts his head curiously. “You didn’t seem like you were new to magic.”

You shake your head. “I-I’m not. It’s just…been a long time.”

He nods once. “My name is Taa.” He purrs as he starts to pull you close.

“W-wait.” You stammer.

He nuzzles into your shoulder and carefully slides his paws under your shirt. “Yes?” he asks, but definitely not waiting.

“I’m still looking for someone.”

He pulls you close, the heat of him combined with his rampant magic makes you throw your head back with a gasp as something tugs firmly behind your navel. Something that only happened when you were very intensely (or suddenly) turned on.

“Look after, _please._ ” He begs, his soft lips press against the crook of your neck and his sharp teeth begin to nibble your skin. “You taste so good, so sweet. Your flesh calls to me.” Your eyes roll back as your heart pounds harder. You hadn’t felt like this in so long. It was what you had been missing all this time. No one had needed you like this, not like this, since Sans left you.

Hey, that’s right. He _left_ you. Dumped you. So, why did you care about finding him at all?

Love? He didn’t want to love you. That was why he left.

“Okay,” You reply breathlessly. You slide your hands through Taa’s fur and he shoves you back against the bed. His boxers were his only clothes and they quickly come off. You help him by taking off your bra yourself as he tugs your pants down.

You wait impatiently as he finds a condom before he crawls on top of you. Almost immediately his magic washes over you and you lose yourself in it. You come up for breath a few times but instantly search for the soft safety of his mind-numbing power.

He fits you pleasantly, his lithe limbs grip you tightly against him. Warm tendrils drift through your veins and stoke the fire in your core higher. Taa seems to anticipate your needs, quickly figuring out how rough you like it.

His needle-like teeth pierce your neck above your collar bone and you beg for more. He moans at your reaction, his body quivering. His back paws dig into the bed for leverage, his ears fold back as he thrusts harder. Your hands grip his fur, your hips arch into his and you throw your head back with a scream as your muscles seize in ecstasy.  

He cums with a lion-like roar, his claws digging into your shoulders and back. Taa’s eyes flash dark green and an aura lingers against his speckled cheeks as he rides out the orgasm. You reach up and catch his face when his body goes limp, guiding him gently to you. The guilty thoughts that dance at the edge of your mind are pushed away for a few more hours as you fall asleep.

*

You wake up with a jolt. You glance quickly around the cramped room, struggling to remember how you got there. The room is probably 6x8, with a wardrobe and a sink. It reminds you of your old college dorm room. It’s decorated with thick rugs on the walls and what looks like a giant scratching post in the corner.

A soft, warm hand strokes your back and you jump. Taa is laying on his side, staring serenely up at you. Your heart slows down and your stomach drops. Right…you came here looking for Sans and ended up sleeping with a cat monster.

Did that make you a furry? No, there was another word for it. You give your head a little shake. That didn’t really matter right now anyway. And was that really such a big deal?

“Good morning.” Taa purrs.

You chuckle dryly. “Morning.”

He absently rubs your back and after a moment you clear your throat. “I-I should go.” An awkwardness you haven’t felt since your first one-night-stand creeps up on you. Last night had been incredibly impulsive, even for you.

“You can stay if you want to. Grillby makes a mean breakfast. And uh, you’re not the only one who stayed the night here. No walk of shame or anything.”

You manage another laugh as you swing your legs out of his bed. Your knees nearly hit his wardrobe. “Wait, not the only one who stayed the night? Does that happen a lot around here?” You ask as you pull on your jeans.

Taa stretches with a yawn. “Not really, only after MMHP’s.” He replies.

You freeze in complete confusion.

He sits up with a laugh. “Mass Monster-Heat Parties. MMHP, or many, many horny people, as the humans call it sometimes.”

You snort at that and find your bra half-hiding under his bed. “Did you say, ‘monster heat’? I didn’t think monsters all went at once, I thought it was different times for different monsters.” You pull on your shirt, only to realize Taa had torn open the back of it.

“Sorry, I got excited. You can have one of mine, if you want.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got a jacket I can wear over it. I’m sure you need your shirts more than I do.”

“I’m a stripper. I’ve got disposable shirts that I tear apart when I perform sometimes.”

You blink back at him, not sure what to say to that. “Uh…sure, I guess I’ll take one then.”

“We sometimes get individual heats, depending on our social and love life. But it’s soooo much easier if we can encourage a heat before we get to that super-needy sex stage. So, we schedule some parties to get it out of our systems so we don’t make fools of ourselves.”

“Huh. Makes sense I guess.”

“So, you don’t come here a lot, but you know magic and monsters?” Taa says conversationally as he searches for a shirt in your size.

“Well, the guy I was looking for is um…an ex.” He nods and hands you a plain blue t-shirt. “I just,” you rub the back of your neck after you pull the shirt over your head. “I guess I just want to see him again. Things ended pretty badly.”

Taa pulls on sweat pants and a black tank top. “What did you say his name was again? It’s totally slipped my mind.”

“Sans. He’s a big, sullen skeleton. Usually wears gym shorts and sneakers.”

Taa’s tail flicks in thought as his eyes furrow. “Uh…yeah. Has a ten-foot tall brother in the royal guard?” He gestures above his head with a paw to indicate height.

You nod, feeling a spark of excitement. “Yeah!”

He closes his eyes with a small sigh as he runs a paw over his head, his ears fold and perk back up reflexively. “Shit, cocoa, not surprised it was a bad break up.”

“So you _do_ know him?”

“Not directly.” He replies, looking back at you with his green eyes. “But he’s been with a few of the other artists and he knows Grillby, the monster who owns this place, so he’s here a lot. Odds are if you come around here again, you’ll find him.”

You snort as you pull on your jacket. “You’re not just saying that so I’ll see you again, right?”

Taa shrugs with smirk. “I certainly wouldn’t mind it.” His tail flicks. “You did tip pretty nicely and you have a lovely set of…lungs on you.”

You can’t help laughing at his cheesiness. “Well, let’s get breakfast, I’m starving.”


	6. Harder to Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the real reason I wanted to bring in a cat love interest for reader.
> 
> Don't try this at home kiddos...
> 
> **Side note**
> 
> I started a tumblr if anyone's interested in checking it out (i'm still really new to it so bare with me) my blog name is squirrleycow :)

The bar is much bigger without the crowd busting the seams. In the emptiness you can see there’s several areas partially sectioned-off. A stage with microphones, a baby grand piano and other music stands is still set up from the night before on the far west wall. Several smaller raised platforms and stages with poles and cages are scattered all over. The curtains of fabric aren’t hanging up anymore.

You and Taa sit at a thin wooden table in what serves as the dining area of Grillby’s. He was right, there are dozens of other humans and monsters who don’t look like performers sitting with monsters who definitely do.

He was also right about the food. It was _amazing._

For a while you watch Grillby talking to a few monsters from behind his bar. He was a pale blue fire monster, with no discernable features other than his glasses. He dressed smartly with a pressed white long-sleeved shirt and vest. You wonder how he can be on fire and still wear clothes and touch people.

“So, what do you do?” Taa asks, munching on surprisingly good fake-on.

You feel that same twinge of awkwardness from earlier creep in and you take a gulp of coffee to wash down your English muffin. “Uh, nothing really. I inherited a business from my dad’s uncle and it basically runs itself.”

Taa gives an impressed frown. “It must run itself pretty damn good to tip like you do.”

You give a dry, embarrassed chuckle and a small shrug. “Well…yeah.” You decide not to lie to him, you get the feeling he would see through it.

“What do you do for fun, then?” He asks, sliding his empty plate out of the way so he can lean on the table toward you.

You smile at him over your coffee. “Are you trying to segue this into a date?”

Taa shrugs playfully, his dappled tail flicking as he looks expectantly at you.

You give another chuckle and roll your eyes. You lick your lips before speaking. “Well, I do a little of everything I guess. I like to dance, but only if I’m drunk. I like cooking, I like video games, uh, I-I…shit.”

Taa frowns as your eyes widen and you duck your head lower, trying to hide your face in a wine menu. He turns and you see his fur puff reflexively. He laughs it off, “Well, well, I’m surprised to see you here the morning after. You usually take off in the night.”

Papyrus scoffs lightly and you pretend not to hear him stepping closer. The leather of his pants creaks as he leans down and gently pulls down the menu. His bony digits are so much slimmer than Sans’. You’d never have guessed they were related if they weren’t the only skeleton monsters you’d ever seen. Papyrus is several feet taller than Sans and every bit as gangly and lanky as Sans is stocky and thick. They didn’t even have the same eyes. Papyrus’ were beady and always black while Sans’ dominated his features and had red pupils.

You can’t help but swallow nervously, your throat suddenly parched. “Little early for wine, human.” He remarks with a sly smile as you look up at him.

He either only has one pair of black leather pants, or dozens, because every time you see him his gangly legs are always covered in skin-tight leather. They’re hanging a little crookedly from his hips today and his studded belt is missing. His torn black crop-top exposes his spine, most of his ribcage and hips and reads, “I’m not always a bitch…just kidding go FUCK yourself.”

You snort and gesture to the shirt, trying to compose yourself again. “Must’ve been a big hit last night.”

He smirks. “Could say the same to you.” He tilts his head toward Taa who leans lightly on the back of his paw and looks cooly back at him.

You find yourself again and lean back in your chair, flipping your hair out of your face. You’re about to open your mouth to shoot back something really icy and witty but Papyrus just scoffs again and saunters off. You deflate a little as you turn to watch him wave easily at a group of dogs and join their table.

“Fuck. I even had something clever to say.” You say sullenly, turning back to Taa.

“I was right. You are interesting.”

You laugh genuinely at that and he purrs.

“What about you, what do you do for fun?” You ask him, trying to salvage the conversation.

He shrugs. “I’m pretty boring. I like exercising and I really love your kinds’ Yoga, it’s helped a bunch of us get better at some of our stunts.”

You give him a knowing smile. “Yoga, huh?”

Taa purrs again.

You heave an overly-dramatic sigh and roll your eyes as you pull your phone from your pants. “Okay, you’ve sold me. I wanna see you again.”

Taa laughs and pulls out his phone too.

*

You drop by Grillby’s every night for nearly two weeks without seeing Sans, but Papyrus shows up a few times. You’re getting on first-name basis with several of the performers and the past few nights Doggo doesn’t even stop to sniff you when you come through the door.

Papyrus is here tonight and you both go above-and-beyond in your attempts to avoid each other while still keeping an eye on the other. After a few hours, you get tired of the act and honestly ignore him.

You smile up at Taa as he swings artfully around one of the pole-stages. It’s easier than you expected to call them artists or performers after seeing them in action. No way were these monsters your hole-in-the-wall, dead-eyed strippers you once associated with that word. These were the kind of souls who were truly passionate about what they did.

Taa hangs upside down and spins slowly on the pole, his tiny golden shorts leaving very little to the imagination. You can’t help but admire the bulge with a tilt of your head as you sip your cocktail.

Your phone buzzes on the tabletop and draws the attention of several as the glaring light burns like a spotlight in the dim bar. It’s a text from Kathy.

_Haven’t seen you in a fortnight! :( Yasmin and Vince are having a thing at their place tonight, wanna be my escort?_

You finish your cocktail and begin your reply when a delicate foot waggles its black, furry toes in your face. You look up to see Taa sitting on the stage, resting his weight on his front paws. “The show’s up here, ma’am.” He teases, raising his voice to be heard over the loud hip-hop tonight.

You stick your tongue out at him and he taps your chin with his foot. With a roll of your eyes you shove a few bills in the leather pouch tied at his ankle. You hear someone chuckle when you give a half-bow and he tilts his head regally in response.

Taa shifts his weight effortlessly and slides into a handstand. You take a moment to appreciate the flawless move before texting Kathy back. _Have plans tonight, but will make it up to you later._

You set your phone back on the table after Kathy replies with a simple _Ok._

*

Taa sputters as water runs in thick rivulets down his face. He gasps for air and you can see the muscles in his shoulders and upper arms tense and roll. He instinctively tugs against the rope binding his arms behind his back on the smooth marble. You shift over his bucking body to keep your balance, having to catch yourself against the wall twice.

He was stronger than you expected. Then again, fight or flight was probably stronger in a monster.

With a hungry smile you shove on his sternum to keep him still and his feet wetly slap the tile walls, struggling for purchase. He fully catches his breath and you cover his short muzzle with your palm before slowly pushing his face underwater. Bubbles explode around your fingers with a muffled scream. If he didn’t struggle so hard, he would be able to breathe just fine. The water level in the big soaking tub barely covered his eyes. It was the struggling that made the water slosh wildly and threaten to drown him.

You count to three and pull your hand back. Just enough time that he can exhale completely before sucking in water.

He coughs hard but quickly tries to speak. “P-please,” he coughs again. “Please, I-I can’t…I can’t…” His chest heaves with desperate gasps and you gently hold his drenched face in your hands. He trembles at the gentle touch and you let him completely catch his breath. The water is just barely swirling now.

Taa leans forward, nuzzling under your chin and against your chest hard. “Please,” he begs. His hips struggle to move and he whimpers brokenly. You can feel him, hard and ready through his soaked boxers as he weakly grinds into you.

You scoff and shove him back roughly. His eyes are wide with surprise when you catch his head and hold his muzzle underwater once more. This time his body arches into yours and his muffled scream sounds more like frustration then fear. You shift your weight and keep him under just a little longer, watching him carefully.

It takes only one extra second for that switch to flip from frustration back to fear as instinct kicks back in. He struggles against you and cries out. One more second and you let him up for air. As he gasps and trembles you carefully stand. Your knees are bright red, with bruises already blooming on your inner thighs from his bony hips.

Your legs wobble just a little bit as you grab one of the “special” condoms Taa brought from the bathroom counter. You hadn’t noticed in your magic-addled mind, but he was more cat physically than human. Which meant he had several rows of barbs on his dick near the base. They weren’t as sharp as non-monster cats, they actually felt and looked more like a well-worn pencil tip. But typical condoms weren’t made to handle extra friction from his kind of junk and could easily break.

Taa rests his head against the edge of the tub and watches you with bated breath as you oh-so-slowly pull off his boxers, tossing them to the floor with a loud “splat”. His breathing quickens as you carefully unroll the condom, his eyes close as his cock twitches in anticipation. This condom was noticeably thicker around the little barbs.

You drip silicone lube on him and massage a little into yourself for good measure before you climb back into the tub. But first you make him move away from the wall. Wouldn’t want to crack his skull open.

He groans pleasantly as he sinks fully into you, his head rolls back and you shiver slightly at the sensation of the covered barbs. “Guess you’re ribbed for my pleasure, eh?” You tease.

Taa snorts. His weak laugh fades as your hands slide up his wet fur to his shoulders. Before he can mentally prepare you shove his shoulders down. You watch him closely as you count and start working your hips. His body arches up, driving him deeper.

You cry out in surprised pleasure, your hands slide off his shoulders to brace in the tub and he sits up. He moans loud as soon as he catches a breath. You lose yourself for a long moment in the perfection of it all. The breathless whimpers of need echoing off the tile, the feel of his warm body shivering underneath you, the smooth glide of him slowly growing even more perfectly rough as the lube washes off.

You snap back to yourself as Taa’s body tenses and his voice grows louder. Just before his climax you cover his muzzle and push him back underwater. A gurgling scream erupts under your palm and you shudder as he writhes weakly. You pull his head up and it rolls in your hands, his chest heaves and he gives you a soft smile.

Holding him against your chest you reach for the plug and pull it. His head rests heavily against your shoulder as the water slowly drains. You wait until the tub is completely drained before you gingerly lay him back down. No need to let him sit in water since it had already served its purpose. That would just be mean.

Your legs protest angrily when you stand, but you relish the feeling as you walk unsteadily to the trashcan to toss the condom. Taa is purring contentedly when you begin cutting the sodden rope away from his arms. He winces harshly when his limbs are free. “You okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” He laughs weakly. “Just banged up. Harder to tell underneath the fur.” He manages to roll onto his back and he stares back at you blissfully. You grab a huge bath towel and slowly coax him out of the tub. Once he’s mostly dry you wrap him up in an oversized terrycloth robe and his purring becomes constant.

His ears still flick back from water irritation, but he’s too tired or too satisfied to complain. After you dry off and give yourself a once-over in the mirror to check for damage, you haul Taa back into the bedroom.

Both thoroughly exhausted you quickly fall asleep tangled together.


	7. Unkiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go even more sideways.
> 
>  
> 
> ***Heads up, there's assault and some bad stuff in this chapter. Don't wanna spoil it, but also don't wanna surprise/upset people either.***

You wake before Taa. For a long, still moment you watch him breathe softly, holding your own until you’re certain the gentle rise and fall of the sheet is actual breathing.

You give a shaky exhale and very carefully slide out of bed so you don’t wake him. With a shake of your head you run your hand through your hair and sigh. He had a way of pushing your usual hard-set boundaries. Something about him just made it hard to say no.

You shake your head again and throw on a night gown with a sheer robe before heading to the living room.

The sunrise paints your cream and white furniture and carpet with golds, reds and purples. The sight makes you frown, maybe it was time to redecorate after all. You’d wasted no time in making the bedroom your own, why keep the same drab living room?

Your feet tap lightly on the heated floors of the rarely-used kitchen as you head to the direct-line hotel phone beside the empty wine-fridge. You tap the button for the hotel kitchen and wait for someone to pick up.

“Kitchen,”

“Good morning, is it too early to order room service?” You ask with a smile as you turn back to the sunrise.

“Not at all, we just finished prep. What do you need?”

“Breakfast sampler for two, with coffee, OJ and whole-wheat toast. Oh, and creamer and sugar also, please.”

There’s a small pause. “Certainly. We’ll have it ready in twenty minutes. Room number?”

“Penthouse.”

“Oh! Good morning, ma’am! I haven’t heard your voice in a while, I didn’t recognize you! When would you like us to clean up? And would you like your usual brought up as well?”

You feel your face burn. Sometimes you forgot people tried to kiss your ass away from the real world. Your “usual” was a pitcher of premixed Bloody Mary and Screwdrivers. _Usually_ when you call up breakfast you had company… Lots of company.

“Um, I suppose around noon, or whenever there’s some free time.” You wave your hand dismissively to no-one. “It’s not really a big deal. I’ll be out after breakfast. And no, we’ll be just fine without the usual. Thank you for remembering though.”

“Not a problem, someone will be up soon. We’ll buzz to come in first.”

“Thank you,” You repeat, suddenly feeling flustered. They hang up and you pinch the brow of your nose, leaning against the counter with a long sigh.

Taa is barely awake when they bring up breakfast. You’re setting everything on the bar when he shuffles out of the bedroom in a pair of boxers and a tank-top. His fur is wild and unusually fluffy, many spots stand up messily.

Breakfast conversation is easy until your phone begins to buzz in your robe pocket. “Oh, just a sec,” you say as you pull it out. Taa puts a paw over the screen and tilts your chin up with his other. He gives a weak smile. “C’mon, I haven’t been around you once without an interruption.”

You roll your eyes and lightly push his paw away. “It’s an email from one of the board members, Carter, I need to check it.”

“Do you have to check it right now, though? I’ll have to leave soon and it’s a little rude.” His tone is light but you still prickle at the words.

You sit up a little straighter as your brow slightly furrows. “I may not have to do a lot for what I have, but when someone who makes that possible sends me something, it’s usually important. Excuse me.” Your voice is clipped as you slide off the bar stool and walk into the living room, turning your back on Taa.

The email is about a meeting in a few weeks to touch base with shareholders. Since you own the majority the board wants to be certain you can come. You’re about to call Carter’s secretary and let him know you can make it when Taa slides his arms around you.

“Okay, now. Seriously, Taa. I have to call him.” You joke with just a hint of frustration as you twist in his grip. He lets you turn to face him before he presses into you, forcing you to walk backward. You sigh and push against him, trying to get away. “This is getting o-!” You gasp when he shoves you against the glass hard enough to hurt. Your phone clatters from your loose grip.

He purrs low in his throat before rubbing his face against your cheek. His paws slide to your waist and your heart begins to flutter in a way that makes your stomach churn. “I just want some attention, that’s all. Just until I have to leave. Is that so terrible?” His voice has the same ring as the first night you’d spent with him. A needing, commanding tone. Something that makes adrenaline spike in your veins and sends a small shiver down your spine.

“I-I’m not-not really in the mood right now, Taa.” You don’t know why you stutter, or why your hands begin to shake as you tentatively push against his chest. He doesn’t budge. You give him a weak smile when he pulls back. The purring in his throat has stopped. His tail flicks rapidly near his shoulders as he looks back down at you.

“The more serious uh, se-sessions drain pretty much all my sex drive for a while.” He gently strokes your cheeks, brushing down your hair as he leans harder into you. He gives a small smile as you feel the first weak pulses of his magic. “I can fix that.” He purrs against your neck.

Your eyes flutter as that same magic tugs hard behind your belly button, but you shove a little more forcefully against his chest. “C’mon Taa, seriously. I’m still sore from yesterday. Y-you have to be sore too.”

He scoffs. “Please,” he bites harder into your skin. “you like it rough. You still have scars from that skeleton. No way you told him no.”

You fight the push of his magic as it wraps tighter around you. “I’m telling _you_ no. I want you to stop.” You growl.

You cry out in shock when he sweeps your feet and shoves you to the floor. His claws dig into your wrists as he straddles your hips. “Taa, I’m not fucking kidding. Stop it!”

“C’mon, you know you like it.” He purrs innocently, leaning down.

Your heart hammers painfully in your chest, your muscles tremble with adrenaline and for a horrifying moment you’re frozen. Suddenly you react, headbutting Taa. When he releases you in surprise you scramble from underneath him and sprint for the bedroom.

You can’t hear anything over the rush of blood in your ears. Your legs wobble and you trip over your feet, falling face-first on the carpet. Something catches your robe and you give a short scream in terror, fabric rips as you find your feet and keep running. You cross the threshold and almost forget to shut the door. You freeze when you see Taa. He’s lying on his stomach in the hall with a confused, angry expression and a handful of sheer fabric in his paws.

You slam the door with a squeak of fear when he begins to stand. You lock the deadbolt as he hits the door hard enough to make it rattle in its hinges.

“Cocoa, don’t do this.” His voice is muffled and indignant as he rattles the knob.

You unconsciously step back until you hit the divan at the foot of your bed. The contact makes you jump in surprise but you turn back to the door.

“Go home, Taa and I won’t call the police.” You yell back.

“The police?” He laughs. “Come on, just open the door and we can talk about this.”

“I told you to stop and you didn’t!”

“I thought you were just role-playing.”

“I DON’T role-play.”

“Well, I didn’t know that. You never told me.”

You hug yourself as you rack your brain. You had to have told him. You told everyone your rules, you never broke them. Never.

Well…except for both times you’d slept with Taa.

“I don’t want to see you again. You hear me? You crossed the line.” You tell him, though you sound much less sure of yourself than just a moment ago.

“I didn’t mean to. Honest.” He purrs.

You swallow nervously, your throat was dry.

“Just open the door so we can talk, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You want to trust him, you want to believe he didn’t mean it. After a few steadying breaths, you start to walk toward the door to unlock it.

A sudden loud pound on the door makes you yelp. “Open the damn door, Cocoa. This is fucking ridiculous! I didn’t mean it, okay? What more do you want me to say?”

“Maybe that you’re sorry?” You shoot back.

There’s a long pause. “You want me to apologize because you ignored me? That’s what really started this. I wanted your attention and you wouldn’t give me just a few minutes. You always ignore me! At the bar you’re always on your phone or searching for that fucking skeleton. I hate having to _fight_ you for attention, you should just give it freely. I don’t make you compete.” His voice rings petulant, accusatory and legitimately hurt.

Some of the adrenaline begins to subside and you start thinking more clearly. He was reacting all wrong to this situation. All wrong. He slaps his paw against the door again and you feel rage bubbling up.

Your fists clench and your voice is steady when you speak. “I want you to apologize for making me think you were going to _rape_ me. I want you to apologize because that’s what you do when you scare the shit out of someone.”

He roars and pounds against the door again. The wood creaks and your heart skips a beat, you quickly take several steps back. “How _DARE_ you say that! I would-I would never do that!”

Outrage overtakes sense and you spit back, “You sure had me fooled! Why else would I lock myself in here, away from you?!”

“You take that back! I’m not-! I’m not like that!” He roars, shaking the door again.

You turn to the bathroom and quickly search for anything you can use to defend yourself. There’s a sound of splintering wood and you jerk the towel-rod free with two hard tugs. Dry-wall and plaster explode across the bathroom floor.

You spin on your feet and face Taa, holding the bent metal like a bat. He stops short in the bedroom and you two stare each other down. His tail flicks angrily, his ears are folded back. The usually round and appealing pupils in his dark green eyes are now narrow slits.

How did this happen? You wonder frantically. How did you let someone so unstable into your home, into your bed? Was it you? Was there something wrong with _you?_ How did you miss something like this?

Taa suddenly blinks, looking away from you as his posture changes from violent to apathetic. He looks back with a small chuckle, his tail lazily twitching near his feet and his pupils unchanged. “Holy shit,” he runs a paw over his head, smoothing the fur there and makings his ears fold back. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m really sorry about that.”

Your grip tightens on the rod and your eyes narrow when he takes a step toward you. He holds up his paws passively and gives you a smile that would make a nun giggle. “Let’s just talk this out, huh?” He takes a few slow steps that you mirror backwards.

“Back off.” You warn.

Taa’s arms fall at his sides. “C’mon, Cocoa, you don’t want to hurt me.” His eyes narrow just slightly, reading you very carefully.

He takes another step and you do too, jumping in surprise when you hit the bathroom sink. He moves faster than you gave him credit for and suddenly you’re in a bear hug, your arms trapped. “STOP IT!” He yells when you thrash against his grip.

Angrily he bites into your neck and you give a breathless, pained gasp. The metal rod falls to the floor. Magic forces its way into your veins, scorching a path through your nerves. Your mind rolls to blackness, soft and sweet and warm.

*

You’re ripped from the floating bliss with a sharp pain through your skull that leaves you reeling.

There’s commotion, yelling, hissing and barking.

You blink hard, your vision struggling to return. Your bedroom ceiling swims with color and you stare up at the concerned face of Theodora, one of the albino bunnies from Grillby’s.

“Wh-what…?”

“Shh,” she gently strokes your cheek with a soft, cool paw and smiles. “It’s okay now.”

You groan and try to sit up, your arms are so weak they shake with the effort. You struggle to make sense of what you see.

Taa is face-down on your bedroom floor, pinned down by a huge white dog you’ve seen at Grillby’s before. The dog sits on his back and growls unkindly when Taa tries to move. To your surprise Grillby is standing a few feet away with his arms crossed. His shirt is shredded, a strange blue ooze drips from what you assume are wounds.

Theodora carefully wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you close to her. “We’re waiting for Papyrus and Undyne. They’re going to take him away for judgement.” She explains gently.

“What…” you shake your head. “What are you all doing here?”

“He wasn’t at work so we went looking for him.” Grillby explains. His voice is much softer than you expected. He sounded like the crackling of a dying fire. “We heard you lived here so we called to ask you about him. The front desk said you had a guest,” Grillby clears his throat, “So, we decided to come visit in person.”

You hold a hand to your head as it beings to pound. “What’s going on?”

“He was attempting to have his way with you.” Grillby snaps, blue fire sparking around his face.

Your stomach drops. “I’m going to be sick,” you shove away from the bunny and stumble to the bathroom, vomiting into the sink. For a long moment you stare at the porcelain bowl before a fury white paw turns on the faucet for you.

You don’t look at your reflection as you strain to make some sense of all this. Theodora brings you a plush robe from your closet and wraps you tightly in it, her paws rubbing your arms up and down.

“I know this must be terrifying for you, but you’re still dressed. We got here before anything happened. I promise you this.” She whispers. “He did scratch you pretty badly in the scuffle, but you were not taken advantage of.”

You close your eyes and cover your face with your hands. This was insane! This couldn’t be really happening. No way. You trusted Taa. This had to be some crazy nightmare, that was the only explanation.

There’s a sound like crackling electricity and goosebumps sprint across your skin. You uncover your face as a bright white light flashes in the hall. Curiosity overtakes you and you step into the bedroom with Theodora.

Grillby starts running to the door, “Sans! Not here! WAIT!” He yells as he blocks the doorway, but Sans simply teleports around him.

You stand frozen as the monster you’d been searching for all this time is suddenly standing in your bedroom. You watch as he magically shoves the dog off Taa and rips the cat upright by his throat before slamming him against the nearest wall. The impact leaves a Taa-shaped dent in the drywall as Sans yells, “I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU SORRY SON OF A BITCH!”

Taa chokes, his claws dig at Sans’ bony hands and his feet kick uselessly against the wall. He was hopelessly weaker than the livid, seven-foot skeleton.

Grillby tugs hard against Sans’ shoulders, barely getting him to budge. The dog guard is still magically pinned to the far wall.

And you blink stupidly at them until Taa’s eyes roll back and he goes limp in Sans' grip. You snap out of your trance and run toward them. You hesitate before touching him and decide against it. Grillby still struggles to pull him back, blue fire magic sparks rapidly in the air around them. There’s a deadly gleam in Sans’ eyes.

“Sans. He’s not worth it, he’s not worth killing.”

His brow furrows deeper but with a loud growl he releases Taa, who falls in a heap on the floor. He takes a giant sucking breath and coughs before struggling to his hands and feet. Distantly you hear the buzz of the elevator opening across the penthouse.

Grillby takes several quick steps away from Sans. You glare down at Taa, hating yourself for trusting him. Hating him for pretending he was trustworthy.

Heavy steps approach through the hall.

Taa laughs dryly, his voice cracking as he looks up at you and Sans. “Can’t even…finish me off…like a real…monster.” He manages through gasps for air. He coughs and smiles wickedly. “He’ll never want…you now…just tell them…the truth, Cocoa… That you asked…for it. And I’ll forgive you...We can just put this behind us.”

Your insides churn with outrage and shame, you feel like vomiting again.

“See that? She’ll never forget me, no matter-” Sans interrupts him with a magical shove against the wall. You see the crimson glow of an upside-down heart on Taa’s chest before he sails through the bedroom wall and slams into the hall, stopping in the wall behind the kitchen.

“As if the poor girl didn’t have enough damage to clean up, Sans. Jeeze.” You jump at the unfamiliar voice. A dark blue fish woman with wild red hair was standing beside the new hole in your wall. She had a patch over her left eye and her visible scaly skin was covered with old, overlapping scars.

“Let me save everyone the trouble and just turn him to dust!” Sans snaps, his fists shaking as Papyrus curiously leans into the hole to look at Taa.

“Greater Dog, take him outside. A car is waiting in the back alley. Do not make a scene, keep him unconscious.” Papyrus instructs.

“I can telepor-” Sans begins to offer.

“No.” Papyrus cuts him off curtly. “Asgore is very clear about rules, you know this. If you take his life, we must take you before him.”

“It’d be worth it.”

Papyrus stares back at his brother and Greater Dog waits before touching Taa. He gives the smallest glance at you and his sockets twitch in an unreadable expression. “It would not be worth it to me, brother.” Papyrus finally replies and Greater Dog hauls Taa from the hole. He flops lifelessly over the dogs shoulders, plaster dusting his speckled fur.

“Undyne, would you accompany them? Grillby, Bunny, too. Asgore will wish to hear from you.” Everyone starts to leave but Papyrus adds loudly, “DISCREETLY as possible. The hotel staff have encouraged us to follow their lead outside and we shall do so.”

You can feel tension building as the others leave and you’re soon alone with the skeleton brothers. “Is there somewhere safe you can stay, human? A friend or family perhaps?” Papyrus asks, his gentle tone surprises you.

Your head begins to pound again and you’re suddenly shaking. “I-I can’t beli-believe this is ha-happening.” You hug yourself as your bottom lip begins to tremble.

“Where’s your phone? I’ll call someone to take care of you.” Sans says a little roughly.

You scoff bitterly. "An-and who am I supposed to trust now? I _thought_ I could trust..." You look away from the brothers. "I can't really trust anyone lately, can I?"

"Not everyone's going to try and-"

"SANS! Really, now?" Papyrus chastises his brother.

“Human, would you like to stay with us?”

“I doubt—”

“Yes. Yes, please.” You answer over Sans’ protest.

Papyrus tries to hide his smug smile for your benefit and fails miserably. “Good. Firs-” The rest of Papyrus’ words are cut off by a soft “pop” as your bedroom quickly swirls into blackness around you. You blink once and you’re standing in a very familiar living room. The far too modern and brightly colored living room of the skeleton brothers.

Just as you’re aware of Sans’ hand tightly gripping yours he releases it. “I uh, figured you didn’t want to hear my bro drone on—” You interrupt him with a fierce hug, your hands ball into fists so tight around his coat that your knuckles ache.

“Kitten, don’t…” He starts to speak but his words fade out and slowly gives in, wrapping his arms around you. Soon he’s holding you just as tightly as you are. “Don’t worry, I got you.” He whispers into your hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the previous chapter, Papyrus was suspicious of Taa because Reader had never been to a MMHP. As captain of the guard, he goes to all of them because he loves the attention. He was watching Reader so closely because he was concerned for her.
> 
> Taa is a little unstable, he was going to blow one way or another. Thankfully, he is never late for work and this was an instant red flag for Grillby, only he thought something bad happened TO him, not something bad happened BECAUSE of him.
> 
> While Grillby and Greater Dog were subduing Taa, Theodora called Papyrus because they don't know about 911. Papyrus and Sans were at home when he got the call. Sans pestered his brother until he told him what had happened and that's why he showed up.
> 
> Hope that'll answer most of the questions, but let me know if I missed anything. :)


	8. Not Falling Apart pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is a two part chapter because it was getting kind of long and I wanted to update. Not sure when the next chapter will be, but probably before this Saturday I'll have it up.

Papyrus calls Sans almost immediately after he “poofed” the both of you to their apartment. He demands to speak to you and reassures you everything will be taken care of. And also tells you, you can call the human police to do whatever is necessary by human law. But you decline, telling him that you were positive he would get punishment enough from the monster king.

He sounded relieved at that.

Sans tells you to go shower and you don’t argue. If you weren’t pressing charges, then no one needed to do one of those invasive examinations. It would just be assault, not actual… You can’t even finish that thought. To your great relief, Theodora was right. You were still wearing the same underwear you pulled on with your nightgown.

It’s difficult and downright disturbing to think that you had willingly slept with Taa not even twenty-four hours before now. Again you wonder how you misjudged him so completely.

You don’t look in the mirror as you undress in Sans’ bathroom and turn on the shower. Sans’ room behind you is messy as ever, something you find comforting. You toss everything you’re wearing in the trash. The shredded nightgown and torn sheer robe, the purple panties, even the short plush robe had to go. Blood had spotted it and there was no way you’d ever be able to wear it without thinking about today.

You hop into the steaming spray and take several deep breaths. You’d be okay, you’d get through this. You’d gotten through losing your parents, you could get through this too.

After you’ve scrubbed yourself down thrice over you get out of the shower.

You stand in the doorway of Sans’ room for a long moment before you find the courage to look at your reflection. You’re revealed after several swipes across the clouded mirror and you gasp. The bite just above your collar bone looks way worse than it felt while you were cleaning it. It’s bruised beneath the needle-teeth marks. Your wrists have scratches over the backs of them and there are several messy marks across your chest and back. But most surprising is your double blacked eyes.

You lean closer to the mirror and see a cut on your forehead and swelling in your nose. Did you headbutt Taa with your nose? You press on the bridge of your nose and wince at the sharp, unexpected pain. Did you break your nose? You gently pinch and wiggle your nose until your eyes water, but don’t see anything poking out at weird angles.

Eventually you decide that your forehead took the brunt of the headbutt, but your nose took some damage too. You’d heard somewhere breaking or hitting your nose could black your eyes.

You turn back to Sans’ room and tip-toe across the clothes-strewn floor to the dresser. Naturally you reach for the drawer that he’d cleared out for you, but you stop. No way would he have kept your clothes after all this time. You open the bottom left drawer and smile. Not only were your clothes still there, but they’d been rearranged.

Unfortunately, he’d ruined your last pair of pajamas you left here the last time you stayed the night, so you help yourself to one of his t-shirts after pulling on a pair of boy-shorts.

Sans’ headboard is still missing the bar he broke off when you topped him. That memory makes you smile, even if it’s a little bittersweet. Your smile fades as you realize if he hadn’t dumped you, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

Suddenly you’re exhausted. You’re tempted to curl up in his unmade bed but you walk downstairs instead.

Sans is surprisingly busy in the kitchen washing dishes. You sit heavily on the couch and pull the throw blanket around you before flopping on your side to watch TV. It doesn’t take long before you’re fast asleep.

*

The next morning you wake up tucked neatly into Sans’ bed. The smell of burned wood and fresh cotton are unbelievably comforting. You sit up and are half-disappointed Sans isn’t next to you.

You sigh and throw back the blanket, freezing instantly with a breathless wince. _Everything_ hurt. Your back felt twisted, it hurt to reflexively scrunch your eyes in pain, even breathing pulled some aggravated muscle in your chest. The unnoticed bruises and bumps from yesterday were demanding attention today.

After several minutes you adjust to the discomfort and carefully tip-toe your way across the room to the dresser. You slowly, painfully pull on jeans and a hoodie and head back downstairs, trying not to wince.

Sans is sleeping face-down on the floor with his sneakers still on and his hood pulled over his head. His face is turned toward the couch and you can see a puddle of drool soaking the carpet beneath his cheek. You laugh quietly at him before the smile fades and you make your way to the front door.

“Human,” Papyrus’ cool voice makes you freeze mid-step.

You turn and see him standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in his typical black leather pants, studs and black shirt. Today he’s added a dark red bandana around his neck. He casually descends the steps and heads to the kitchen. He points to a plastic sack on the dining room table as he heads straight for the coffee pot. “Some personal affects. They may make sneaking out a little easier. I understand humans wear shoes outside the home?”

You force a small laugh. “Uh, yeah. Thank you. And thank you for…”

He holds up a hand with his back to you, you recognize the gesture as “shut up.” He lowers his hand and continues preparing coffee. “I am not in a mood to talk.” He explains plainly.

“Oh.” You reply quietly, standing awkwardly between the stairs and the door. The coffee pot sputters to life and you hesitantly walk to the table to take your things. Your phone, a pair of boots, toothbrush, body wash and your wallet are in the neatly tied sack.

“I-I’m going to stay in different room while they repair the penthouse.” You tell Papyrus. He grunts in acknowledgement as you shove your feet into your boots, not even attempting to bend over to lace them up. Your phone has exploded with text messages, missed calls and several emails.

The emails and calls are from hotel staff and board members. You quickly scroll through the emails to see if you need to reply. One gives a timeline for repairs, a few are well wishes, another is telling you they’ve pushed back the meeting until further notice. The texts are from some of Grillby’s workers asking if you need anything to call them and you’re suddenly reminded you haven’t talked to Kathy in person in weeks. In fact, you haven’t talked to anyone outside the scene in months.

You don’t really know what to do with that depressing realization so you decide to take Kathy out when you’re up for company.

You’re about to stand and head for the door again when Papyrus turns and sets a steaming mug of coffee in front of you before he sits at the table. You open your mouth to decline but he stares unnervingly at you over the rim of his cup and you decide against it.

Jeeze, even all their mugs were red and black. The one in front of you is black with swirling red designs. You take a tentative sip of the black coffee and close your eyes in surprised appreciation. “Mm, this is fantastic. What brand do you buy?”

“The one from the mermaid shop with the dragon on the bag.” Papyrus replies, taking another sip himself.

“Komodo? I haven’t tried that one yet. I’ve been stuck on Sumatra.”

Papyrus tilts his head curiously.

“Uh, the one with the tiger.”

“Ah. I am impressed with your kinds’ variety and skill with cultivating such an optimal bean. We do not have coffee. We have only tea underground, and I was not a fan of it. Our king, however, is. And one does not refuse when the king offers to pour you tea.”

You nod and smile at your mug. “My uncle was the owner of the hotel I live in, he owned the entire franchise. And he loved cooking for people. Every year he would cook all the food for his private Christmas party at work. The only thing is he loved garlic, he would cook entire bulbs of them with all his dishes. And he never quite managed to get them cooked right, they’d always be underdone or overdone. But no one ever told him because they were too scared of getting fired. So, everyone would go on and on about his horrid garlic food.” You give a small laugh before taking another drink.

Your smile fades when you see Papyrus’ blank expression. “Sorry,” you weakly apologize. “it just reminded me of him is all.”

“I do not like garlic either.” He says simply.

You snort and he gives you another strange face, his head tilts slightly and his sockets narrow.

A grumbling behind you makes you both look in the living room. “Ugh…” Sans groans as he pushes up from the floor. “You two gonna make any more noise?” He complains as he wipes drool from his face. His right cheek bone is a pale shade of red from the carpet.

“I would have had to wake you eventually. We’ll need to leave soon. Coffee is ready.” Papyrus replies cooly. “And don’t forget to bring a change of clothes, just in case.”

Sans continues to grumble under his breath as he shuffles to the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Work?” You ask, forcing your tone to stay light as you anxiously tap the coffee mug.

Papyrus nods and finishes his coffee, standing. He pauses before turning to the kitchen again. “Taa is receiving his judgement today. We are required to be there. The King would also like me to extend invitation to you.”

Your stomach drops to your toes and a chill runs through your veins. Sans drops the mug he was pulling from the cabinet and it bounces loudly on the counter before it tumbles and shatters on the floor. You jump with a short gasp.

“You can’t be serious.” Sans scoffs. “A human girl seeing that?”

Papyrus doesn’t look away from you. “We discussed the matter last night.” Sans scoffs again, angrier this time. He waves a hand at the floor and the shards of mug throw themselves in the trash. “You are free to refuse,” Papyrus continues.

“She should!”

You frown at Sans’ outburst, it makes you want to take the offer just to see what he was so upset about. But a large part of you wants to go to see what happens to Taa.

“I want to know what’s going to happen to him.”

Papyrus nods, turning back to the kitchen. “You should wear something else.” He says, placing his mug in the sink as Sans begins to growl.

“Don’t do this. Don’t go with us.” Sans gestures sharply with one of his hands.

“Why not?” You snap.

Papyrus leans against the counter and folds his arms over his chest, he looks at his brother while he struggles to reply. Sans shakes his head with another grumble. “At least tell her what she’s going to see if she goes down there!” He barks.

Papyrus shrugs with a weak smile. “I cannot think of someone more deserving to witness it than her.” He glances at you. “We do not have many truly guilty offenders before the king. It will not be pleasant.”

You blink in confusion. “T-truly guilty offenders?”

Papyrus looks back to his brother expectantly.

Sans runs a hand over his face. “Look, there’s a reason I didn’t tell you shit before all this. Our world isn’t for humans. You wouldn’t understand it.”

“Give her some credit, she’s not an imbecile.”

“Not now, Papyrus,” he says dismissively. “You should just walk out that door and never think about this again. Seriously, being around monsters is just going to get you hurt again.”

“What has that got to do with anything? If this were in court, I’d go to see him put in jail.”

“This isn’t your world!”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Very mature.”

“Yeah, cause you’re the fucking poster-boy for maturity.”

“I don’t want you to be there when we tell everyone what he did to you! Okay?! Mother _fucker!_ ” He slams his hand on the counter and red magic glows around his fingers. A red haze clings around his sockets as he stares back at you. “I don’t want you to have to fucking hear it again!” He looks away with another loud growl before throwing his hands in the air. “Goddammit, you’re infuriating! It’s bad enough it happened, but I…” The rage fades from his voice and for a second he closes his eyes.

“Oh,” you quietly reply.

He glares back at you with empty sockets. The sight makes your skin crawl with goosebumps. He blinks and his pupils return, his expression drains as he looks away. “Fuckin’ a,” he sighs before stalking out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room. He slams the door behind him.

Papyrus clears his throat, getting your attention. Your head snaps back to him and you realize you were still staring at Sans’ bedroom door. “Truly guilty offenders are rare for us,” He picks up the conversation like nothing had happened. “Because most complaints are either false or not serious. Nearly all disputes are settled among the affected parties, because who wants to waste the king’s time with something petty?”

He pushes away from the counter and gestures for you to follow him as he slowly climbs the stairs. “In case you have not guessed it,” he continues as he leads you to his room. You can’t help but stare. His room is immaculately clean. His black furniture and black shag rug contrast sharply with the clean white walls. “Because how could you know such a thing? Sans has a very special job,” he opens his closet and searches quickly through studded clothes (all the same shade of black) quickly.

“He is a judge. He has a few other minor jobs, but this is his most important. He is very rarely called for it, maybe once a month or less.” Papyrus finds a short leather jacket and holds it out next to you for a moment before deciding against it and returns to his search. It would have been way too large on you.

“He has a very unique and rare ability. He can see the depths of someone’s soul. And before you ask, yes it does transfer to human souls, too.” He pulls another jacket out. This one has studs on the shoulders, clothes pins fashionably holding the pockets closed and a broken zipper. “Yes, this will work. It looks large, but you won’t stand out as much. It matches your boots, too.” He tells you this casually, almost boredly.

You take the jacket from him as you try to process everything he told you about Sans. You pull off the hoodie and Sans’ shirt spills to your knees. You tie the loose fabric in a knot at your hip and slide on the jacket. It fits fairly well, only a size or two too big.

For a moment, you both stand silently.

“So, if he can see my soul…why did he leave?”

Papyrus sighs. “Only he would know.” He shakes his head as he steps back out onto the walkway to the stairs. Sans is standing in his doorway when you walk past, he stops you with an arm held straight out. “Wait, you shouldn’t go to this. Seriously.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that.” He doesn’t resist when you shove his arm out of the way.

“Then I’m not going.”

You turn to look at him incredulously. Papyrus turns to look at him halfway down the steps.

“Brother, you cannot be serious.” Papyrus jogs back up to the walkway, standing beside you.

“Oh, I’m pretty fuckin’ serious.” Sans replies lightly. His pupils slide to you as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “So, it’s up to you. You can go with Pap and the cat goes free, or you stay here and he’s punished.”

You scoff, looking up at Papyrus. “He won’t really go free, will he?” You ask with a confident tone.

“Yeah, he will. Law says the king can’t carry out a punishment, only agree if someone deserves it. And I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets to do the punishing.” Sans replies with bitter satisfaction.

“Then someone else can do it!” You snap.

“On such short notice?” Sans smugly shakes his head. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand our world. Tell her, bro.”

Papyrus sighs and raises his hands as he turns back toward the stairs. “I’m not getting in the middle of this anymore. I will either see you underground, or I won’t.”

Both of you watch as Papyrus grabs his coat from the hook at the door and leaves.

You swallow anxiously, looking back up at Sans. You don’t like being alone with him while your emotions are still running so high. With a groan of frustration, you turn and start jogging after Papyrus.

“Whoa, you’re really going to let that piece of shit go free?” Sans runs down the stairs behind you, he catches your arm and stops you in your tracks. “Nope,” you tug your arm and he easily releases it. “But you’re not going to let him go either.”

“Of course I’m not! But-jeeze woman, stop!” You pull your arm out of his range but he teleports in front of you, blocking the door.

“What are you so fucking afraid of?!” You scream, surprising both of you. “Yeah, I get it already. You’re fucking judge, jury and executioner, right? That’s what freaks you out so much, right? What I’m going to think of you after seeing you do something like that?”

He falters a moment before he yells back, “Of course it is!”

“I don’t care!”

“I _do!_ ”

“Too fucking bad!” You try to shove past him, but he grabs your wrists and stops you once again. “Ugh! Just stop it, already. Why do you even care anymore? We’re not even a thing!”

“Obviously because I love you, you fucking idiot!” He lets you go forcefully and you take a step back. “Like I even need to say it at this point, Jesus.” He harshly rubs his face with his hands and looks away from you. A gesture you realize is probably to keep him from crying.

He shifts his weight and opens his mouth to speak but stops. You wait, completely still as he finally finds his words. “It’s not just you seeing what I do that bothers me. I don’t want him even _thinking_ of looking at you again.” Fury seeps into his words and you can almost feel his rage. “I don’t…I don’t want people seeing what he did to you.” He adds, much more gently.

You manage a small laugh. “I did this to my face. I head-butted him.” You explain, motioning at your blacked eyes. They probably looked much worse since yesterday.

A weak smile grows on his skull before it returns to a grim line.

“I uh, also ripped the towel rod out of my bathroom wall.”

“Holy shit.”

You force a laugh so you don’t start crying and you’re reminded how sore you are when your chest twinges uncomfortably. Your anger had given you temporary relief, but once that subsided you just feel hollow and tired.

“I don’t want to sound like a dick, but I can’t think of anything more gratifying to someone like that than to see you break down. And considering how much he was twisting the knife yesterday, he’s not going to just sit there and be polite when he sees you.”

“Then I just won’t break down. Super easy.” Your sarcasm is so thick your voice is flat.

“You’re tough, but no one’s that tough. You’re going to get upset. Fuck, _everyone’s_ going to be upset.”

“Then I’ll get upset Sans, I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back to give me a cliff notes version of whatever happened.”

“Have you ever seen someone die?”

Your head starts to pound from this never-ending argument. “Yes,” you reply tiredly.

Sans’ sockets rise a little in surprise. After a moment, his posture deflates as he realizes defeat. He sighs in exasperation and slides a hand over his face again. “Okay, I give up.”

You blink and he’s gone with a soft “pop”. For a moment you just frown at the door where had just stood before you yank it open and head for the elevator.


	9. Not Falling Apart pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, being sick really slowed me down. Ugh.

You stop short when you turn the corner of the hall and see Papyrus waiting next to the elevator door, leaning against the wall on the right. “Human,” he greets you quietly. He pushes the down arrow as you walk toward him. He’s pulled on his coat, shoving the sleeves half-way up his arms. The thin black coat only reaches his waist. A few white stripes crisscross over the torso.

“Wh-why are you still here? I thought you went on without us.”

He shrugs lightly and pulls gloves from his pockets as he steps into the elevator. You rush to follow him before the doors close. He flexes his hands once they’re snugly covered, the leather creaks. “I figured Sans would pull a stunt if you refused to stay here, which I was pretty certain you would do. And you do not know where we’re going, you were going to need someone to take you.”

You open your mouth but Papyrus speaks over you, “Do not thank me.” You close your mouth again, face burning as you sink a little into the borrowed coat.

“Monsters do not…express gratitude.” Papyrus adds after a few floors pass by with soft ‘pings’ from the elevator panel.

“Oh,” you reply, feeling better about your interactions with him.

“If we are not outwardly aggressive, one can generally assume one’s actions are socially acceptable or even appreciated.” He continues before checking the phone in his pants pocket. “Undyne has impeccable timing,” he comments.

The elevator door opens to the lobby of the apartment building, Papyrus goes first. “Eye contact is expected and often prolonged. Do not be surprised and do not look away.”

“For a-all monsters?” You clarify as you take longer strides to catch up to him.

“Yes. The monsters topside are more…palatable to humanity. The ones who returned underground were considered too monstrous to integrate. You won’t be in any danger, the irony being the more terrifying they are, the more they wish to be seen as gentle.”

“Does the opposite apply, too?”

Papyrus smiles knowingly back at you as you exit the lobby. “Disproportionately so,” he replies dryly.

“The more I learn, the more it’s obvious the only thing separating humanity and monsters is magic.”

“You would be alone in that assumption, human.” He walks through the sliding glass doors and a large black, SUV is waiting in the valet parking area under the large cement canopy.

Of course it’s black, you think to yourself as you climb into the back seat after Papyrus. The one-eyed fish monster you’d seen at your penthouse the other day is in the front passenger seat. Undyne. She turns as the driver, a surprisingly muscular brown rabbit, pulls slowly into traffic.

Her eye-patch sinks into her scaly face as she smiles broadly at you with instant recognition, “Looking good, human.” The compliment catches you off guard and you don’t know how to reply. Was a bruised face a good thing for monsters?

She gives you a small nod before looking to Papyrus, thankfully relieving you from the awkwardness of fumbling for your words. “MTT is having some sort of celebration afterwards, you going?”

He tenses but disguises it as shifting his weight in the seat. “No, there will be paperwork to file.”

Undyne scoffs with an over-exaggerated roll of her eye, she twists harder in the seat, using the driver seat as leverage. The angle makes it obvious she’s wearing nothing under her red leather biker jacket. You turn to look out the window and try to push the image of her shining piercings out of your head.

“You’re always filin’ paperwork, or tracking something down, or doing _something._ Have a little fun, boss.” She says, lightly teasing him.

“Having order is why I got _your_ job.”

“Psh, please. Having that bone-cage thing and the soul-grabbing is why you got my job.” She doesn’t sound or look offended at his jab. “Asgore loves effective powers, yours were just better than mine.”

Papyrus scoffs, “You’ve gotten soft.”

Undyne smiles broadly, revealing her shark teeth before she shrugs. “I’m just in a good mood.”

“And are attempting to rub it off on me, apparently.”

“Of course I am! You know…he’s never going to notice you if you never show up.”

Papyrus’ fingers tap thoughtfully on his knee as he watches the city pass out the window. “All right, I’ll go.” He concedes.

Undyne slaps his knee excitedly. “Fantastic! I’m telling Alphys so she can tell MTT to look for you!” She throws her weight back in the seat and taps on her phone.

“Wait, don’t!”

“Too late!” She sings before looking back, wiggling her eyebrows.

Papyrus sighs and leans back in the seat.

“OH! He said he’s ‘looking forward to seeing you’.”

You smile when the lightest shade of red blushes against his sharp cheekbones and he returns his gaze outside. Slowly, your smile fades as the brief levity fades. Your stomach suddenly ties in a knot when the car leaves city limits. Mount Ebott looms to the east. The hunk of rock that had trapped monsters underground for thousands of years.

The car pulls up to a newly paved road that winds up the side of the mountain. “How does this work? Will I have to talk about what happened?” You ask, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. It was all still so fresh, you almost hadn’t had time to really believe it had happened to you.

“No, not likely.”

“Yeah, we already heard from Grillby and Theodora. And we got there pretty quick, plus Sans’ll tell the King what he thinks, too.” Undyne adds cheerlessly.

You nod, licking your lips as the car comes to a stop. “Humans have a much longer justice process. They don’t really think anyone is trustworthy, but they do their best to be fair to everyone. And we don’t have the benefit of always knowing without a doubt that someone’s telling the truth.”

“Used to be just mob justice for a long time, ‘til the King reorganized everything.”

The others exit the car and you follow. “What’s the…punishment for crimes like this?” You’re feeling better now that you’re moving again. You follow the monsters across the gravel parking lot onto a small dirt trail.

“Most of these things that makes it to the King end in death.” Papyrus answers.

Your heart jumps to your throat and the heat drains from your face. Sans had pretty much given that away, you shouldn’t be surprised. But you’re suddenly slapped with the realization that you’re going to watch someone die, and the person you love most is going to do it.

You shake your head as a wave of dizziness makes your knees weak. It was too late to turn around now. If you backed out now, it was like ignoring this massive part of Sans’ life. You had him back in your life and you were desperate to prove you could handle everything he’d hidden from you before. Leaving would only prove his argument that you couldn’t understand his world.

Undyne leads the way into a small tree-line, when the trees break they reveal a massive cave entrance. Deep, ragged claw marks are dug into all sides of the opening.

What massive monster made these? You wonder as you stare at marks several feet deep and as wide as your thigh. The cave is wide enough for all four of you to easily walk side-by-side, but you enter in a straight line.

“Stay close,” Papyrus instructs. “There is very little light through here. Do not touch the walls.”

“How far is it?” You ask as you bring up the rear. The dark is sudden and oppressive, an icy breeze rushes at your face and you shiver.

“Not very,” he replies. You pick up the pace when he sounds further than you thought he was. The cave continues for several minutes. The smoothness of the floor surprises you, you had expected to fall at least once over a stray rock. Just as you’re about to ask how much further it is, you’re blinded by a white light.

You blink repeatedly as your retina burn, still shuffling forward. Just as suddenly the light fades and Papyrus, Undyne and the rabbit are waiting for you in a small, carved chamber. Your eyes take a few moments to recover.

Something clouds your vision. You rub at your eyes, thinking the irritation will pass. When you open them again you’re shocked to see it has only grown clearer.

“Wh…what the fuck?” You breathe. Hovering words have appeared in the corner of your vision.

 

ITEM  
STAT  
CELL

TEMPERANCE  
LV: 6  
HP: 17/40  
G: 23,638,412.48

 

You tightly close your eyes and shake your head, but when you open your eyes again, the words are still there.

“Hm, I suppose it happens to _all_ humans, then.” Papyrus says cryptically.

“ _What_ happens to all humans? They hallucinate?!”

Undyne guffaws.

*Papyrus did not mean to upset you, but he finds your outburst amusing.

*You take a step back, feeling very overwhelmed.

“Am I going crazy?”

“Not at all.” Papyrus replies, more gentle than usual. “We did not expect you to be affected by the magic down here, is all. We thought you were too…old.”

Your chest feels tight, you unzip the coat and try taking deep breaths, pacing off the extra energy you suddenly had. “So-so this is magic that’s doing this?” You ask, trying to calm down. If the monsters were calm, you needed to be calm, too.

*The monsters nod.

You shake your head. That was going to take some time to get used to.

*”It’s also doing that,” Undyne adds, pointing at your chest.

You stop pacing and slowly look down at your chest. A dim purple light is shining beneath your shirt. You pull back on the collar, looking down. You can’t help but gasp. A cartoon-like heart shines against your sternum.

“Purple. Hm, interesting.” Papyrus smiles.

“Why is that interesting?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Perseverance is very similar to Determination, wouldn’t you say?” Undyne laughs again.

You falter, growing more and more confused. “Uh, I guess? They’re basically the same thing, aren’t they?”

*The monsters all smile, clearly understanding something you don’t.

“Come, human. Let’s meet the King.”

You hesitate for a long moment before catching up with them. The light in your shirt fades as you pass through another doorway.

The room you step into takes your breath away. A soft golden light drifts through the circular, sporadically placed skylights in the ceiling. Pollen floats in the air, rising from knee-high yellow flowers growing up through the floor.

You’re so enthralled by the unexpected beauty that you don’t see the child sprinting toward you.

*Another human!!

You jump, startled by the staticy voice. A child about ten or twelve stops short of running right into you. They smile broadly, revealing a missing canine and new, crooked adult teeth. They’re wearing a ridiculously oversized red and black striped sweater, black tights and faded leather boots. You want to say it’s a girl, but you aren’t certain. Their dark brown hair is cut an androgynous bob.

As their smile fades you realize their eyes aren’t brown, they’re a dark shade of red.

“H…hello. You must be the one who broke the barrier, right?”

They nod curtly.

*Temperance. Interesting name.

“You can see that?”

They nod again with a smile.

*I can see many things.

A chill runs down your spine as their smile turns predatory.

“My child, you are supposed to wait for your father to greet new humans.” A demure voice coos. You look up to see an eight foot…goat? She walks out from behind the throne you hadn’t noticed. The kid runs to her and hugs her tightly, ducking partially behind the thick black cape clasped at her neck. She’s solid white, with short, sharp horns and long ears that brush her shoulders. Her eyes are a dark, honey color with red irises. A small crown rests steadily on her head.

“Queen Toriel, this is the human we spoke of.” Papyrus introduces you, taking few steps toward you.

You’re not sure how to react, being introduced to their queen. Do you bow, do you curtsy, do you fall on the floor and hide in the flowers?

No, don’t be stupid. Papyrus told you to maintain eye contact, so that’s what you do. Toriel tilts her head very slightly, her eyes narrowing as she looks impassively back at you. You notice her paws pull the child a little closer to her before she blinks and looks behind her to the doorway. Booming laughter echoes through the large space and a very familiar skeleton walks into the flower-garden with another goat beside him.

The new goat has to duck through the doorway, his right horn is too tall to miss the arch of the opening. His left horn is broken near his skull. Unlike the other goat, he has hair. It’s a thick, curly black mess that covers most of his torn ears and blends seamlessly into the beard on his muzzle. A scar splits the white fur on his face over his left eye, it stretches back to the broken horn. His armor is impressive, solid black with a strange red rune painted on his chest. He stands several feet taller than Sans, who is staring hard at you.

“AH! Human! I apologize for the delay, your companion was just telling me the most terrible joke. Come, come, we can talk as we make our way to the judgement hall.” He gestures amiably with a broad smile for you to join him.

You hesitate a half-second, seeing the thick scars crisscrossing his massive paws, but shake yourself mentally. _Scarier they were on the outside, the nicer they were on the inside_. You remind yourself as you force a smile and cross the field of flowers.

Strangely, you feel the heated gaze of the Queen and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You glance quickly at her and confirm the thinly veiled disapproval in her eyes. You look back for a moment before the king’s kind encouragement demands your attention.

He lays a heavy paw on your shoulders to guide you next to him. It covers both of your shoulders and most of your back. You nervously look up at him and notice his irises are different colors. His sclera are yellow like the Queens, but his left iris is a deep orange while the right is a dark blue. “Human, I want to rectify this terrible, terrible act. I wish you to know this kind of behavior is _absolutely_ unacceptable.”

He guides you into the next room, even more brightly lit than the flower-garden. Stained glass windows line both sides of the long hall, golden tiles and columns reflect the sunlight making any artificial light unneeded. The huge room, as big as a football field, is packed with monsters. They all stand between the wall and the columns, leaving the middle of the hall empty. Their conversation is a dull hum, it reminds you of an air conditioner.

“We were not rightfully represented by this heinous act, and on behalf of my people, I extend my deepest apologies.” The king adds gravely, stopping you with a soft grip on your shoulders.

You give him a faltering smile. “I don’t blame anyone but Taa for what happened.” You lie, half-blaming yourself, too.

*He nods once, shaking your shoulders gently and hoping you don't blame yourself either.

He turns to Sans. “Sans, bring him in.”

You turn in time to hear the small “pop” as Sans teleports. “Wait here, human.” He instructs, pulling you to the edge of the crowd. They give you room as the Queen, Papyrus and Undyne come to stand beside you. The king strides confidently to the middle of the hall while your stomach turns into a tight knot.

Your hands clench into fists at your sides as your heart hammers up to your throat. All murmuring stops when the king stops and the sudden silence is unnerving.

The following “pop” is tremendously loud. Sans appears in front of the king and Taa falls on his face with a “smack”. Your nails bite into the flesh of your palm when he slowly pushes himself upright. His green eyes meet yours and your blood runs cold. Those round pupils narrow to slits and he looks away, sitting back on his heels.

“This monster was caught in the act of abuse of magical influence over another. He is further accused of deceit, unnecessary violence, manipulation, and…” the king actually pauses, the queen scoffs under her breath behind you. “And attempted rape. Of these odious offenses, how do determine him, judge?”

“Guilty.” Sans replies without hesitation, his tone dark.

*Taa laughs shortly, shaking his head in disbelief as the crowd collectively, angrily agrees with Sans.

“His likelihood of repeating these acts?”

Taa looks back at you and winks. Your heart skips a beat, you don’t realize you’ve moved toward him until Papyrus and Undyne block you with their arms straight across your chest.

“68%” Sans takes a little longer to answer this time.

“Unacceptable.” The king nearly yells.

“DUST HIM!” Someone screams in the crowd. A loud chorus agrees.

In the roar, Sans says something, his expression falling flat as his pupils vanish. Taa spins to look back at him, he turns back to the king with a laugh. He crouches on one knee, hunching over to get eye-level with Taa. You strain, but you can’t hear what he tells him. You can only see his expression change from haughty, to disbelief, to wide-eyed terror. “No…” he mouths.

The king stands upright again as Taa begins to shake, his paws cover his face as his pupils nearly vanish. “Dr. Alphys.” He calls. The chaos instantly dies.

A monster about your height approaches the center of the hall from the crowd. They’re yellow-scaled with a thick stubby tail that nearly brushes the floor. She wears a black skirt with a slit to her hip and a blood-red halter top. A trio of fleshy points flare off the back of her skull. Several pointed teeth jut from her short, cute muzzle where a pair of glasses rest. Her bare feet have neatly manicured talons.

“Yes, Asgore?” She practically purrs, stopping a few feet short of the king so she can talk to him without craning her head back.

“You have a new lab assistant.”

Dr. Alphys grins with a dark excitement and goosebumps sprint across your skin. But you aren’t the only one to feel the creeping chill, many of the monsters you see actually hug themselves or even look away from her. Taa whimpers quietly as he slowly sinks to the floor.

“Excellent.” She coos, kneeling down by Taa. She balances with her fingertips on the floor as she grabs Taa’s chin with her free hand and forces him to look at her. Terrified tears spill over his furred cheeks as she pulls him close enough to put her lips at his ear. He sobs once, tightly closing his eyes as she stands upright.

“Come on, then.” Her tone is bright as he offers her hand to him. He sobs again, slumping to the floor hopelessly. The sight makes your stomach turn. “Don’t make me ask again, you won’t like it.” Her face and voice harden. Taa shakes his head, despondent.

Dr. Alphys sighs, reaches down and grabs him by the scruff of his neck. You wince when her claws dig into his skin and she stands upright, dragging him across the judgement hall, still crying. He weakly asks for help but just as quickly falls quiet when monsters fall over themselves to get out of her way.

*For a long moment the hall is weighed down by a dark, foreboding feeling. It’s broken by an inappropriately excited voice that bizarrely sounds like it’s auto-tuned. “Well, now that that horrible mess is behind us, we can get my party started early!”

You don’t even bother to see who said it. A few people cheer and the sudden change in emotional atmosphere exhausts you. You run your hands over your face, actually thankful for the sharp pain that brings. A cool hand wraps cautiously around your wrist and you lower your hands. Sans stares back down at you.

“Want to go?” He asks as the crowd begins to mill around. You nod and he teleports you back to his apartment with a small “pop.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A girl has a name...and a fuck-ton of money.


	10. It Was Always You

You fall back on the couch and close your eyes. “There’s a party, you should go. Your brother’s going.”

“What about me says ‘party guy’?” The couch depresses beside you and you sigh.

“I just wanted to give you an excuse to not be around me.” You admit.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.”

You feel him about to stand and you grab his arm to stop him. “I don’t want you to go, but I didn’t want to make you stay.”

He gives a lopsided smirk and slowly eases back into the couch.

For a few moments you both sit in silence.

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“He’ll live for another ten years, tops, if he doesn’t piss off Alphys. It won’t be pleasant by any stretch of the imagination.”

“So, like prison?”

“Less inmates, more freedom, worse warden.”

“Mm.” You kick off your boots under the coffee table and pull your feet underneath you on the couch. “What did you and Asgore talk about?”

“I told him Taa would be more useful alive, and it’d be a better show of force. Everyone likes the progress Alphys makes, but no one wants to know how.”

“H-how does she make progress?”

“Torture and risky experiments. She used to pay monsters for helping but after a while she couldn’t pay enough for monsters to help her. She’s had theories go untested for years, now she’ll have some help. And no one’s going to step out of line anytime soon.”

Your stomach turns. On one hand, you’re glad he’s not going to hurt anyone else and maybe someone else won’t be hurt because of what happened to him. On the other…torture and an early death are a bit extreme. On the other, other hand, you had Sans _actually have a real conversation with you_. You want to capitalize on this rare change of character.

“I saw…words in my eyes while I was underground.”

“Yeah?” He shifts his weight, turning toward you now.

“Yeah. There were two boxes, one said ITEM, STAT, CELL. The other had my name, LV, HP, and G. Papyrus said it was the magic?”

“Yup.”

“So…?” You lead him expectantly. Shit, so much for a conversation.

He pinches the brow of his nose. “Ugh, the first three are self-explanatory, I hope your name is too. Heh. LV is your ‘level of violence’, HP is ‘hit points’, G is your gold.”

“That sounds…like a video game. How is that magical?”

He rolls his head to look at you, frowning slightly. “Seeing how strong someone is and how much damage they have left to take isn’t magical?”

“Well, I couldn’t see any of the monsters stuff.”

“We can see yours. But, we’re more accustomed to it I guess.”

“What’s ‘level of violence’ mean?”

“It’s…your ability to hurt others, and effects how easily others can hurt you. Everyone is born at level 1. For monsters, it means we’ve killed other monsters or humans to get to that point.” Not for the first time today, your stomach turns. Your head rolls to the back of the couch and you close your eyes. “But that’s not always true.” Sans slowly adds. “Your LV can increase by attacking others without killing them. Humans are especially good at this because they aren’t so easy to kill, your bodies can take more damage.”

Blinking up at the ceiling, you wish the emotional rollercoaster of the past 48 hours would just stop. “Yeah, well, that’s not why my ‘level of violence’ is at 6.”

“You’re a dom, obviously you…ya know, hurt people. You’re not the only human I’ve met who…” His voice fades as you slowly wave your hand to stop him.

“I killed over a dozen people when I was 15.” You close your eyes again. “Including my parents. We were camping and my dad had a heart attack. Mom and I got him in the car and she stayed in the backseat with him. We were okay until I got on the highway. Dad stopped breathing, mom was trying to do CPR and I looked back…just once, to check on them.” Your voice trembles. “The next thing I remember is hanging in the car by my seatbelt. I’d hit a van and flipped our car down the highway. There was a pile-up and…so many people died because I looked over my shoulder.”

A very familiar ache resonates in your chest, one you thought (hoped) you’d gotten rid of with the several years of therapy. And when that didn’t work, borderline hedonism. All of these unprocessed emotions would be easier to shove down without bringing up the past with your ex-boyfriend.

“That’s not your fault.”

You laugh darkly. “Then tell me the average ‘LV’ of the humans you meet is.”

“2-4.”

“And monsters?”

He doesn’t answer so you slowly look at him. He makes a strange expression. “Depends on what they do. Though, uh, most are at least a 3. A few are nearly 20, which is the highest we know of.”

“Yeah, so explaining how the LV thing works just confirms what I already knew.” You shrug angrily. “I caused the accident, how else would I get that high?”

“You can…cause a death without being guilty of murder.”

“Wh-why would you even go home with me if you could see that? Did you want to die?” You ask, completely ignoring him.

He shakes his head. “So dramatic. No, I didn’t want to die.”

“Then why?” You demand.

“Because you’re not dangerous, anyone with eyes can see that.”

Why would Taa want you if you had killed more than most humans and monsters? Jeeze, he had some issues. “Whatever.” You groan softly in frustration, massaging your forehead. “Ugh, I need sleep. Or a drink.”

“Still like rum?” He asks, standing and heading for the kitchen.

You rub the back of your neck and sigh, head hanging in your lap. “Yeah,” you reply, staring blankly at the creases in your jeans. The couch creaks as Sans sits beside you. You laugh when he hands you a bottle, resting a fifth of whiskey on his thigh.

“Holy shit,” you laugh again as you crack the seal and he does the same with a halfhearted shrug. “Cheers,” he offers his bottle and you clank yours into it before taking a long pull.

He sighs and you blink rapidly at the burn in your throat. “Woo, what is this?” You shake your head as you look at the label again. “Some local distillery or something, looked worth a try.” You frown appreciatively and take another drink, bigger this time. It’s not long before you start feeling the warm and simultaneously numbing effects of the alcohol.

Sans waves his hand and the TV turns on. He throws his right arm over the back of the couch and adjusts his weight until he’s comfortable. You take a few more drinks before you decide you’re now drunk enough to blame anything you do on the alcohol. The bottle clanks against the glass coffee table, rum still sloshes against the sides as you look back at Sans.

He swallows his whiskey, balancing the bottle on the arm of the couch now. His sockets quirk as you sway just a little. “Why did you leave me?” You ask, staring intensely at his red pupils. He exhales slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. “I already told you, in the elevator.”

“Yeah, but you also said you loved me. You sa-said it again today, too.” You unintentionally lean closer to him, your balance off.

“I was also pretty clear I didn’t want that.”

“Why not? I-I-I mean, I didn’t go out lookin’ for love. But I’m not all freaked-out by it, like you are.”

Sans sighs, setting the whiskey on the table. He rests his weight on his elbows against his knees. With a shake of his head he looks back at you, sitting up straighter as he twists to face you. “I was in love once, and,” his pupils dart away. “she went back to her husband. They were supposed to be separated, but then” he scoffs “she up and leaves. That sucked.” He closes his eyes for a moment before he clears his throat and takes another drink.

He carefully sets the bottle back down. “I’m not letting that happen again. It’s bad enough I caught feelings for you, no need to make it worse by sticking together.”

“I’m sorry.” You tell him sincerely, touching his shoulder. “But that’s stupid.” Sans snorts, looking at you with disbelieving amusement. “What? I’m sorry, but not every woman is going to leave you.” For a moment, you hesitate. “I…I wasn’t going to leave you.”

He rolls his eyes and looks away. “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. We had something, Sans.” You grab his face and force him to look at you, he blinks wide-eyed in surprise. “We had something good, something nice and warm and strong and unique.”

He recovers and pulls your hands away from his face. “And now we don’t.” He clarifies.

You shake your head a little too forcefully, it makes your rum-soaked brain spin. “No, we don’t. But we could have that again.”

“Why would you want that?” He almost sounds offended.

“Because I’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in my entire life than when I was with you. Was-was it really that bad for you to jst-just be yourself with me?”

“Yes.” He replies deadpan.

“Why?” You prod.

“‘cause it hurts. It actually hurts to love you, to care if you’re okay or not.”

“I…I thought you liked when things hurt.” Your hand finds its way to his thigh. For a split second he smiles before he stands.

“It’s almost three, most places are done delivering lunch. What d’you want? Pizza, Chinese, Greek?” He asks casually, walking back to the kitchen. He stands there, still and quiet as your hurt confusion quickly flips to understanding.

“Y-you don’t mind that it hurts.” When he doesn’t turn, you continue, “I don’t even thi-think you think I’m going to l-leave you. You-you think you’re all brooooody and msysteriousss by hiding all your shit, but it’s just makin’ it suuuper obvious you’re hidin’ stuff.” You point dramatically at him, really feeling the alcohol now.

Sans looks back at you, “And you’re wasted.”

“Doesn’t make me less valid! Why won’t you jus-just tell me? Hmm? Jeeze, if we’re n-not a _thing_ anymore and you don’t wanna BE a thing, just tell me!” You crawl to the arm of the couch and prop yourself up on it, locking your elbows as you lean drunkenly at him with a scowl. “I-I passed your little ‘monster culture’ test today, I can handle the-the whole ‘jusdge’ thingy, too. So, what is it?”

“Because none of it matters.”

You frown. That wasn’t what you expected to hear.

He shakes his head, turning away from you again. “I’ve met you before, but you don’t remember it. I’ve met other humans and monsters too. Usually, I just go from one relationship to the next until everything ends. Just for something to fill the days.”

Unexpectedly you slide from the arm of the couch, but you manage to recover, slowly standing. “What…what are you talking about, Sans?”

He heaves a sigh. “One of…one of the things I’m good at is seeing outcomes, seeing different possibilities. Different uh, universes. Only thing is, I don’t just _see_ them.” He closes his eyes, putting a hand over his chest for a second. “I live them and I remember every fucking detail. After so long, everything’s just an endless stream of the same conversations, same choices, same endings. And eventually, it’s going to drive me crazy. I’ve seen glimpses of it.”

You blink back at him, struggling to process what he was telling you. You lick your lips, “H-how many times have you told me this, then?” Most of the drunken slur is gone.

He scoffs. “That’s the thing,” he glances at you with a pained smile. “this is the first time. I don’t really know why I’m saying any of this except, maybe I just don’t care what happens anymore.” His eyes dart around the room and he throws his hands up, letting them fall limp at his sides. “I’ve never been above ground for this long, so we’ve never had this conversation.”

You take a step toward him, when he doesn’t move you take a few more steps until you’re so close you could kiss him. “Maybe that’s good. Maybe-maybe it isn’t.” He’s looking down at you, sockets furrowed intensely. “But you don’t have to do it alone, okay?”

Sans closes his eyes, his head tilts forward. “This could all be gone in an instant, and then I’d be alone again.”

You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It makes you whisper your next words, makes you move even more gently to hold him. “Just find me. I’ll always be there for you.” He surprises you with ferocity of his embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some answers for lots of things.


	11. Sugar

You feel the painful twinge in your neck before you even open your eyes. “Ack,” you groan as you struggle to sit up. Straining to see in the dark, you blink the dry burn away from your eyes. Your heart skips a little faster when you realize your right arm is tangled in Sans’ coat, pinned under his chest.

And Sans is sleeping soundly next to you. He had you basically pinned against the back of the couch and he was amazingly balanced on the edge of the cushions with his back to the TV. His right hand slides slowly from your waist to your hip without disturbing him.

You panic internally, freezing completely to avoid waking him up and dissolving this absolutely perfect moment. After a few hesitations, you carefully curl back into the space against him, ignoring your entirely numb forearm and the awkward tilt of your head as you pillow it against his left bicep. His face is passive and blank in sleep. You chew your bottom lip, noticing how large his eyes were when they weren’t eternally scrunched up in one angry emotion or another.

Against your will, your eyes are beginning to droop. As you’re about to finally lose battle against sleep, the grind and clack of someone unlocking the front door wakes you with a jolt. The light flips on and Sans groans awake as you sit straight up with a burst of fear before you can stop yourself.

Papyrus stops short in the doorway, hand still on the door knob as the content smile on his sharp face turns to bemusement. You try to calm your racing heart and notice a tear in the left shoulder seam of his shirt large enough to show the joints underneath. There’s also a barely visible red blush of a bruise peeking from under his collar. His shirt is only half-tucked into his pants, and the belt has missed a few loops on one side.

Wait, wasn’t he wearing a bandana with that outfit? And a coat?

Dark red begins to bloom on his cheek bones as he self-consciously pulls his shirt up to cover the mark while he closes the door behind him. You’re tempted to tease the usually poised and reserved skeleton, but Sans sits up and you don’t get the chance.

He rubs his face vigorously before twisting to look curiously at his brother. He stops short when he sees you, his words dying on his tongue. He quickly recovers, “So, how was the party?”

Papyrus clears his throat, hanging his keys on the hook near the door as he twists the bolt shut. “It was…fun.” He slowly replies, his back to you both. When he turns, the same soft smile he opened the door with has returned.

Sans’ sockets rise in surprise. “Fun?” he prods with a lopsided smile. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Papyrus shrugs lightly, his smile staying steadfast as he makes his way to the stairs. “You’d be surprised, brother of mine.” He calls over his shoulder as he heads to his bedroom.

Sans scoffs in disbelief when his door shuts. “I’ll be damned. He _did_ have fun.”

Your heart is in your throat as he stares purposefully at everything but you, the building tension makes it hard to catch a full breath. And your right forearm is prickling painfully as feeling quickly returns.

He halfheartedly waves his hand and the TV turns off. You swallow, trying to soothe your parched throat. He taps his fingers against his knee for a heavy moment before he asks, “How much of last night do you remember?”

At first you can’t answer, but you manage when he looks at you, his pupils dance nervously over your face. “Al-all of it. I think. We-we talked about a lot.” And then passed out after finishing both bottles.

He rubs the back of his neck with a hand and sighs. “Well, I need some more sleep and this couch is too small for both of us.” He stands without looking at you. “If you think I’m completely off my rocker, you can go. I won’t blame you, and…I’ll leave you be, ya know, the next time around.”

Sans takes a few steps before you react, snatching his hand to stop him. He looks back at you in stunned disbelief. You stare up at him until he squeezes your hand tight enough to hurt, you don’t flinch. He watches every move you make as you carefully stand, woozy from the hangover and the rush of intense emotion.

You both slowly make your way up to his room. He tosses his coat on the floor after closing the door. You untie the knot in the borrowed shirt and the stretched fabric slowly falls. He catches your trembling hands when they try to shift out of your jeans. “That’s not—”

“No, I know.” You interrupt him with a shaky smile. “Jeans are just suffocating to sleep in.” When he doesn’t let go, you feel stinging tears begin to well in your eyes. At first you succeed in holding them back but when Sans carefully pulls you closer a stifled sob escapes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers when you cling to him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I should’ve stayed.” His voice is bitter as he holds you tighter. “This is all my fault.”

You hiccup and get ahold of yourself. The pain in his eyes breaks your heart and you give another short sob before rolling to your toes to kiss him. “That’s not why I’m crying, you giant goof.” You smile again. True, you’d only felt this emotionally raw once before, but that wasn’t the reason. “I’m just so fucking happy, this doesn’t feel real.”

He blinks down at you for a long time before he kisses you, his hands carefully cradling your face in the most achingly tender kiss you’ve ever received.

*

You try to roll to your back and wake up with a start when your body hit something solid, and surprisingly cool. One small heart-attack later you realize it’s just Sans you nearly rolled over. He’s sleeping on his stomach with his arms tucked under the completely flat pillow, it’s doubled over and shoving his skull back at what should be an uncomfortable angle.

You calm down and yawn, stretching your arms over your head. The unexpected reek of alcohol sweat and armpit funk makes your nose scrunch in disgust. Ugh, did you really smell that bad? You gingerly sniff near your left shoulder with your arm still up and jerk back in confirmed stench.

Oof, you were in desperate need of a shower.

Carefully you creep off to the end of the bed. Sans still had his bed shoved into a corner so the only way off was over him or to step over the footboard. You go with crawling slowly over his legs.

You close the bathroom door so you don’t wake him before turning on the shower and stripping down. You grimace at your reflection in the mirror. The cut above your forehead is slowly healing, a small scab remains. And it looked like the swelling in your nose was gone. But the bruising in the corners of your sockets and beneath your eyes was darker than you remembered. Leaning closer you can see a few strokes of green over your cheekbones.

You frown and press experimentally into the bruise. It’s more tender than the day before. Shit. It was going to be at least a week before your face healed. You realize the alcohol probably didn’t help but you can’t be too upset about that since it led to some kind of reconciliation with Sans. The bruising on your knees and thighs have faded to splatters of red over green and yellow.

Steam rolls from the shower and you step into the tub, sliding the glass door shut behind you. You sigh in the rush of water over your skin, smoothing your hands over your head as you close your eyes. Most of the aches have left, other than the obvious tenderness on the bruises.

You’re scrubbing your scalp with the last of the shampoo you’d left months ago, when the bathroom door opens. It catches in the frame, the wood sticking from the steam. “Hey, uh, sorry to…” Sans fades out when you pull the sliding door open and poke your head through the opening. He’s holding up your cell phone with his other hand still on the door knob.

For a second he stares at you blankly before clearing his throat. “Um, anyway, it was ringing so I brought it in here.” He stretches his arm through the doorway and lightly tosses your phone onto the counter.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll be out in a bit.” You tell him, closing the door again as you lean back to rinse the shampoo out.

“Y…yeah…Um, I mean, take your time. Seriously. N-nothing on my schedule, heh!”

You pause with your head still tilted back. Was Sans…embarrassed? You shrug and reach for your body wash. The door finally clicks shut and you smile to yourself. Nope, not embarrassed. Pervy.

You roll your eyes as you scrub down. This entire situation was so…bizarre? No, that wasn’t a good enough word for it. It was kind of fucked-up too. But for a moment you just enjoy the strangeness of Sans being a perv and actually trying to hide it for a change. It was probably going to do him some good to have a little restraint.

Your smile returns as you remember how lecherous he had been when you’d started dating. You’d caught him more times than you could count staring blatantly at one piece of you or another, or shoving his bony hand into your pants in public. Tugging at your skirt when you’d stand so your ass would show. Pulling at a zipper or bow so you’d have to scramble to cover your breasts. Thankfully, he didn’t do those last two outside of your apartment more than once.

It had been kind of endearing, and usually ended in spontaneous sex.

That thought makes you sink into some less happy places. Like, would you be okay with sex again?

You shake your head as you turn off the shower. That was ridiculous. How many stories had you head of women who had much worse happen to them who went on to have families? Obviously, they recovered at some point and put that behind them. So, you would too.

Plus, Sans had totally just seen you through the frosted glass and that didn’t bother you at all.

You grab a towel from the rack near the door and quickly dry off. Kathy was the one who called. You smile again, as you text her back.

_Hey, sorry about missing your call. I was in the shower._

_Hey!! How are you? I haven’t heard from you! I was starting to think you fell off the face of the earth! Lol_

You sigh softly. _Sorry about that. Things got stupid lately._

You throw the towel over the top of the shower door so it can dry and head back to Sans’ room to get clothes. To your surprise, Sans has fallen asleep again, his legs hang over the side of the bed and he’s on his back. With a shake of your head you set your phone on his dresser and search through the drawers for a clean pair of boxers, remembering you didn’t have any clean panties left over. After several frustrating minutes, you find a pair on your third look through the same damn drawer you expected them to be in.

“Jeeze, don’t you _ever_ do laundry, Sans?” you mumble to yourself as you pull them on. They’re more like gym shorts on you but they cover all the important parts. You steal another of his over-sized shirts and have it half-on when your phone buzzes again.

You leave it bunched up at your neck as you check the text Kathy sent. _Do you wanna come over later?_

With a hard exhale you shove your arms through the sleeves as you think of a polite response.

_I’m not really…fit for company tbh. Let alone a playdate. Is that okay?_ You don’t really like the way that sounds. She was submissive in life too, she’d just roll over and accept a half-assed apology like that even if it hurt her feelings. _I know I’ve basically been ignoring or avoiding you since last time. And I’m really sorry about that._

You chew your bottom lip. Nope, still needed some more. _I’d like to talk to you about it all, if you’re okay seeing me outside of a session. But I think I need a few more days before I’m ready to go out in public._

Jeeze. That ended up heavier than you expected. And you hadn’t even told her anything bad. You shake your head at yourself when she doesn’t respond quickly and do a double-take when you see Sans sitting up in bed. He’s propped up on his hands, still leaning back with his sockets wide.

You force a laugh to fill the awkward silence. “Heh, I uh, thought you were asleep.”

“Nope.” He breathes.

“Oh, well that’s…heh heh, oh!” You’re thankful for the distraction of another incoming text. _No! Don’t even worry about it! I’d love to see you socially. :) We don’t have to go out in public if you don’t want to either, my place or yours is just fine if you need someone to talk to, okay? I hope you feel better soon. And seriously, don’t even hesitate to call me if you need something!_

You smile before sending her a, _Thank you. You’re really sweet._

When you look back up at Sans your embarrassment quickly returns. Oh, right. He hasn’t moved.

“This is so weird.” You tell him as you walk across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. He finally moves, scooting to give you a little more room. You make a face and take his hand. “W-weird?” He asks, a small shake in his voice.

You recognize that tremor, but it’s not one you’ve heard from Sans before. You lightly squeeze his hand and smile. “Yeah, we’re at this weird…I dunno, crossroads right now. We’ve had sex, but not in a while, and there’s still all these emotions and weirdness to work out. Even though under any other circumstance you would’ve just walked right into the damn shower with me or started dry-humping me while I was looking for clothes with my naked ass in the air.”

He scoffs when you laugh, relaxing slowly. His thumb strokes the back of your hand and he manages a small smile. “Yeah, it’s pretty weird. But uh, it won’t be weird forever.”

That short sentence makes your heart flutter with a tentative hope. Maybe your sullen skeleton was finally coming around?

He clears his throat and fidgets, shifting his weight. “I’m pretty sure there’s cereal or something downstairs if you’re hungry. I’m going to hop in the shower. Real quick.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek before he heads to the bathroom. You roll your eyes. So much for coming around…

You stand with a sigh and head downstairs to make coffee.

After waiting for nearly forty minutes you finally hear the shower turn off upstairs. When Sans opens his door, you turn to him calling up the stairs. “Jeeze, either you fell asleep, or you take longer to get yourself off than I remember.”

He pauses on a step to look at you strangely, you’re happily surprised when he laughs a split second later. He continues to the living room, his steps heavy. “I’ll give you two guesses.” He says as he makes his way to the kitchen for coffee.

“Next time you can just ask for some help.” You give a casual smirk into your mug, your eyes glancing at Sans’ back as a shiver crawls up it.

“Don’t tempt me, kitten.” He half-growls before pouring himself coffee. Your smile only grows. It was nice to hear the familiar ease in his voice.

He sighs as he sinks into the couch beside you. “So, what d’you wanna do today?”

You shrug. “I was thinking of maybe getting some more of my things from the hotel. I need some real clothes, as comfy as yours are I feel weird walking around your place like this when your brother’s around.”

“Psh, Papyrus probably wouldn’t notice if you were naked.” Sans scoffs into his coffee before swinging his right arm over the back of the couch. You snort as you lean into his arm, encouraging him to hold you. He takes the hint and slowly shifts his arm to your shoulders, his hand gripping your bicep.

You lean into his side, enjoying the feel of him. “I could go alone, if you—“

“I don’t think you should go at all.” He interrupts, his grip unconsciously tightening.

You half-frown up at him, his expression is set with a furrowed brow and small snarl. “Maybe I want to go, so I’m not terrified of my own home.” He grumbles under his breath and glances away.

“Well, I’m going with you then.” He adds, most of his anger fading.

“Okay.” You agree, snuggling closer to him until your head is on his chest and he slowly relaxes.

“When do you wanna go?”

“Probably after lunch.”

“It’s already past 4.”

You frown. “We slept pretty hard, shit. Guess I’ll go get on pants.”

“Aren’t we just teleporting?”

You shake your head into his chest. “No, they started repairs. Odds are, we’ll scare the shit out of any repairmen there.”

“Then lets wait until dark. They won’t be there overnight, right? Then I can just poof us there and back.”

You have to admit, that sounds much better than getting a taxi, talking to the front desk, getting upstairs and packing a bag, going back down, talking to any staff that heard you were there, dealing with them ogling Sans like circus freak, dealing with them ogling _you_ like a circus freak…

“That sounds way better. So, what’s for dinner?”

“Pap’s eating with the king tonight, so we’ll have to order something. There’s basically only cereal, coffee and spaghetti noodles in our cupboard.”

You chuckle a little at that. “Pizza’s always great.”

“That it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I COULD NOT decide where the heck a good stop for this chapter would be, sorry if it's a little weird.


	12. Sunday Morning

Your heart pounds immediately, you reflexively grip his hand tighter before you can stop yourself. You clear your throat and let him go, heading to the bedroom.

The wall behind the kitchen as been cut away with new, unpainted drywall screwed into the hole. The door way to the bedroom and the wall beside it has been taken completely down to the studs. Plastic covers the carpet, drapes over the furniture and the long sheets of multicolored fabric hung up to the ceiling have been taken down and folded neatly on the bed.

It takes all the personality out of your room.

You turn to the closet next to the bathroom door and flip on the light with a sigh. You grab an overnight bag and start stuffing clothes into it. Underwear, another bra, shirts, your favorite plush pajama pants… You glance over your shoulder and see Sans standing in the middle of the room, his pupils traveling over everything carefully.

You slide past him and head to the bathroom, grabbing toothpaste, makeup, shampoo and another towel.

“Okay, I’m good.” You announce, hefting the bag over your shoulder. Sans glances slowly around the room again before he turns to you, instantly teleporting you back to his place.

This time you land in his bedroom. Without delay you unpack your clothes so they won’t wrinkle, stopping to pull the pj pants on. You turn to see him sitting on the edge of his bed, staring down at the carpet.

You feel your eyebrows twitch closer in worry. “What is it?” You ask, walking closer.

At first he shakes his head, closing his eyes for a second. “I’m kind of bad at…” He sighs, looking up to give you a lopsided smile. He offers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you closer. His palms are sweaty.

“So, um, you remember how you pestered me about the soul showing thing?” He asks, knowing full well you do.

“Yeah?” You humor him anyway.

He glances away, struggling visibly with his vulnerability. “H-here, just um,” he lets go of your hand and pulls his shirt off in a quick motion. Sans doesn’t look at you as a red light shimmers into life over his sternum. It takes the shape of an upside down heart. His soul. You hold back your gasp and let him slowly, oh so gingerly, guide your hands by your wrists to his chest until your fingertips brush the softly glow.

You give a sharp gasp when a jolt of tingling energy dances through your hands, straight to your heart. Something flashes behind your eyes and you feel a burst of emotion as your brain struggles to understand.

“Don’t think.” He breathes.

Licking your lips, you close your eyes and try not to think. Instantly a heavy calm floods your muscles, too heavy to really be calming. It was more…exhaustion, a resigned defeat. Before it pulls you down further a sparking sensation swells in your chest. You feel passion rise with it, mixing into a heady swirl of affection, lust, and love. Its warmth explodes and a bitter, cold wave crashes over it. White-hot rage bubbles up like lava, scorching and melting anything it touches.

You gasp for air, eyes wide as the emotions fade. Sans is still holding tight to your hands, but a soft regret now shines under the glow of his own soul. “Sorry, it’s been a very long time since I shared with someone. Didn’t mean to overwhelm you.” He gently pulls your fingers closer.

You catch your breath and this time try to cradle your fingertips around the muted haze of magic surrounding his soul. You look into his sockets when his pupils glance up just before the jolting energy sprints right for your heart. Reflexively you close your eyes with a quiet gasp as the flashes behind your eyelids now correspond with an emotion.

The heavy, heavy calm is blurred shades of gray and pale blue. Colors watered down and sun-bleached. Voices cutting and sharp. Defeat, exhaustion, growing unease, growing helplessness…repetition. Solitude. Flashes of white fur, coarse to the touch. Piles of gray dust.

The sudden rush of tingling warmth is disorienting. All shades of red. Vibrant dancing light and surging rhythm. Low burning heat with silken sounds and caressing breath. Skin welted from passion.

Bitterness is jagged and biting. Icy daggers slicing numb flesh. Blinding black swirls furiously. Forced isolation and despair.

Rage is dappled fur, green eyes. Black sockets, red pupils and bones. An agonized, wrathful scream never released. Hatred so intense it scalds.

And suddenly…tenderness. A gentle caress, soft brush of skin on skin. Your eyes flutter open and the connection stays. The corner of Sans’ mouth carefully pulls up in a strained smile. He looks at you and a peace lifts the unnoticed weight from your muscles.

You kiss him and the relief that floods your veins is more intense than drugs. It’s his relief. Your instant acceptance of his failures and self-loathing allowed him to let them go, too.

He tugs you close and unintentionally disrupts the connection. The kiss deepens and your hands scramble to hold him tighter. Sans grunts in hesitation when you try to straddle his lap. Breathing unexpectedly hard, you step back when he grips your waist and pushes against you.

“What is it?” The rejection makes your eyes sting, you blink rapidly to stop tears. He groans, closing his eyes as he lets his head fall against your stomach. You exhale roughly at the sudden impact and manage a laugh, running a hand over his skull.

“I’m not trying to get you in bed.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.” You scoff.

His grip loosens just a little. “I’m being serious.” He replies flatly.

You sigh, bending slightly to kiss the top of his head. He slowly looks up, his body pressed lightly against you in his embrace. It was inappropriately distracting. “I know you are. But you don’t have to be.” The soft glow of his soul is still shining in the middle of his chest. “You’re serious _all_ the time and just cover it up with jokes and general pervyness.”

He gives a short, tired laugh, closing his eyes again.

You slide your hands to his thick jaw, tilting his head back and away from your stomach. When he opens his eyes you lean in and kiss him again. You hold him tight when he starts to pull away and he resists for a half-second before shivering. Your tongue parts his lips, tracing those sharp teeth. His hands grip you harder, one at the sway of your back and the other between your shoulder blades.

When you pause to catch your breath—and double-check on Sans—his fists close around your shirt and he shakes his head. “You sure?” He asks breathlessly, eyes struggling to focus.

With a smile, you shove against his shoulders and he flops back on the bed, completely caught off-guard. You quickly move to straddle him, bending over his torso to kiss him again. He moans into you and you give a sultry chuckle in response, grinding your hips against his.

When you cautiously nibble the skin under his jaw he shudders. Encouraged, you bite down harder and he cries out, his hands digging into your back. Your hand roughly jerks his skull to the side, exposing his neck and you worry the same spot. Your eyes flutter and your heart races at Sans’ trembling breath.

Your free hand starts to trail down his torso, fingertips dance over the waistband of his shorts.

“W-wa-wait,” he barely manages. Most of you doesn’t want to listen, so you give a quick, teasing bite on his collar bone first. “Ah!” he cries out again before laughing breathlessly. You nuzzle into his jaw, kissing up his neck hard, working him higher…

You squeak in surprise when he’s suddenly on top of you, his hands brace his weight on either side of your face and he’s breathing hard. After a moment of recovery you smile up at him, noticing even though your legs were tangled you could still feel him hard and excited against you.

“We…we shouldn’t.”

You whine halfheartedly, fingers crawling up his ribs to his back. “We totally should,” you kiss his puckered frown, pecking him a few more times before those invisible lips soften and press into yours.

He pulls back before you can kiss him again. Sans closes his eyes for a second before remembering how to talk. “No, we should wait.”

You slump onto the bed with a weary sigh. “Why?” you whine, wholeheartedly this time.

“It’s only been three days.” He tells you sadly.

You close your eyes, scrunching them tighter when you feel tears beginning to well. Not just because he was right, but being rejected again after getting worked up didn’t help either. “Whatever,” you start to wiggle free and he doesn’t stop you until you try to stand.

“I’m just saying you should, you know, give yourself some time to recover.” He quietly tells you, lightly gripping your wrist.

“Or you don’t want to fuck me.”

“What?! Of course I do! Jesus, if my dick wasn’t red it’d be blue right now!” Sans is so offended you laugh, believing him.

He gives a crooked smile and tugs you back onto the bed. “C’mere, you.” You look away so he doesn’t see your smile. “I’m tired of using sex to escape or just pass the days.” He whispers. “I want the next time to mean something.”

You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed. “It always means something. Even if it’s just for fun, it’s still connecting with someone.”

“I...huh…” He frowns in thought for a moment.

“Are you…nervous?” you hesitantly ask. The quick sideways dart of his eyes answers that question. “Is it because this hasn’t happened before?”

After a while he nods.

You scoff light-heartedly and kiss his cheek. “Welcome to the club, Sans. The rest of us stumble through life without knowing everything.” He blinks a few times in surprise before you scoot closer, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist and leaning your head into his shoulder. When he recovers he drapes his arm over your shoulders and pulls you closer to him.

His soul is starting to dim and you curiously walk your fingers up his stomach toward it but stop a few inches away. “If we were underground, would you be able to…do the same thing I did earlier?” You ask, tilting your head back to look up at him.

“Underground?” He asks, confused.

“Yeah. When I was underground, I saw a purple heart over my chest. That was my soul, right? And the magic underground was what caused it?”

“Purple?”

“Yeah, Papyrus said something about perseverance and determination or something like that.”

“Purple.” He repeats to himself, frowning.

You chuckle, leaning back. He shakes himself lightly, smiling at you. “Um, yeah. I’d be able to see your soul underground, but I could see it up here too. It just takes a little bit of magic.”

You shrug, “Go for it, then. You should uh, experience what my soul has to say, too.”

Sans gives a nervous chuckle, the first you’d ever heard from him. It was sweetly endearing. His hand carefully slides under the hem of your shirt and up your stomach without touching your skin. You can’t help breathing a little faster as your heart flutters. With a formidable amount of will-power you shove down the rising desire in your blood.

You gasp sharply, head snapping back when a sparking sensation erupts from the center of your chest and floods your limbs. Sans’ room is gone and flashes of memories flow seamlessly in your eyes. Slowly you come back to reality, gently rising above the surface of soft waves of magic.

Sans supports your back and head with his right arm, the left still under your shirt where he cradles your shining soul in his hand.

For a long moment you stare at each other.

You wet your lips and start to speak but he steals the words from you, carefully stroking your soul. A warmth swells in your ribcage and Sans breaks the kiss to look down at you with an indecipherable expression. Without thinking, your hand reaches for him until it brushes his bare soul, wanting to understand what he was feeling.

Its like completing a circuit of magic and emotion with a heavy dose of confusion.

Your stomach churns with anxiety (relax, I’m here), chest aches with restraint (just give in), core pulses with desperate desire (stop holding back).

There’s a few seconds of weak resistance before the effort to hold back just isn’t worth it and the connection breaks as hands move to shed clothing and grip flesh.

Naked and chest heaving you stare up at Sans, upright on his knees between your thighs. You can see the uncertainty flash across his face. You sit up and throw your arms around his neck, a shudder rolls through you at the deeply missed rush of his skin on yours as you kiss him. The two souls press into each other and all hesitations fall away.

Only two moments separate yourself from Sans, when he first slides himself into you and when he breathes your name with toe-curling passion seconds before blinding ecstasy envelopes you both. The rest of the night is a colorful blur of blissful sensation and trembling sounds.

*

You don’t want to open your eyes.

That had to have been a dream, you reason. There was no way the past days were real.

“You’re really bad at pretending to be asleep,” a gravelly voice whispers against your shoulder before a cool kiss sends a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes snap open and red pupils in deep black-sockets stare down at you. Sans slowly blinks, a content smile on his face as he carefully strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Di—” you stop before you ask that stupid question and roll to your back in his loose embrace, quickly kissing him before falling back on the bed. Just that small brush of lips ignites a full-blown fire in your gut.

Sans reads the sudden change on your face and chuckles. “Yeah, there’s some sid—” you cut him off with a more forceful kiss, hands racing to pull him close. He grunts in surprise before the sound quickly fades as his enthusiasm catches up to yours.

He easily rolls under your touch and once you’re on top of him you waste no time. One hand trails down his stomach while the other presses firmly on his shoulder, keeping him in place. Not that he tries to resist.

You sigh when he slides into you with ease. His muscles tense under you when your hands grip his wrists and shove them to the bed. After a few minutes working your hips he manages to speak, “You’re not gonna cuff me?” He glances over his head to the leather cuffs hanging in their usual spot on the headboard.

“Nope.” Your grip tightens before you bend over to kiss him. “Fight me.” You purr. Those words make his eyes spark and a devious smile grows.

Expecting his reaction, you wait until he’s half-upright before shoving your weight through your arms, catching him off-balance at the right moment. He bounces on the bed with genuine shock. “Stronger than you look.” You smile at the compliment and pin him down two more times, drawing an unexpected cry from his lips when your body still moves through the struggle.

Finally he changes his approach, trying to free his hands before attempting to roll you. To counter, you lean close and bite under his jaw. For a few seconds his muscles tremble uselessly as he tries to choke back a moan. When he recovers he breaks your grip. His hands wrap around your back and his feet brace to flip, your hips and dragging teeth make him falter. You can’t help but moan at the sound he makes.

He rolls you to your back, breathing hard with the effort and you feel satisfied with the sight. Sans braces his elbows under you, his hands snaking up to grip your shoulders before he starts thrusting. You forget about the struggle as your head lolls back, toes curling by his hips.

When his pace slows you remember the fight you had wanted earlier, you had your fill of slow and sweet love-making last night. Today you wanted your muscles to ache when you were done.

Your hands press flat against his chest and you push him back. His grip tightens, now pinning your arms between his chest and yours. And he just barely moves. Back. And. Forth.

“Nngh, damnit, Sans.” You whine, feet and legs straining to pull him tighter to you when you can’t wiggle free. He chuckles. “Tell me I won and I’ll fuck you proper.”

“What?” You nearly snap, frustrated now.

He stops moving completely and grins down at you. “I won the fight, right? You can’t get away.”

You groan with a half-laugh. “I could get away.”

“Then do it.” He dares smugly.

You roll your eyes and he chuckles. He starts to gloat but you carefully kiss the crook of his neck, planting your lips there several times before your tongue gently licks his soft, invisible skin. You drag your tongue up to his jaw before suddenly biting into the swell of muscle connected to his shoulder and it sends a shiver up his spine.

You bite down harder and shake your head just enough to make him cry out, it’s more than enough of a distraction to get your hands free without him noticing. He’s dazed when you let go, sliding on your side and shoving yourself back with a foot on his hip. You manage to hide your disappointment when he slides out of you.

You’re almost off the bed when he snatches your calves and yanks you close again. You throw your head back and laugh, it fades to a low moan when his tongue starts to circle your clit. Your back arches on the bed when his fingers sink in and curl against your walls. He hums pleasantly when you start to sit up but fall back with another load moan.

Another finger slides in and your hands tangle in the bed-sheets. His arm wraps around your thigh, his hand pushing down on your hip to hold it down. “Ah-! Sans! Do-don’t stop!” You cry out, suddenly feeling the first sparks of climax.

His fingers dig into your hip harshly, his hand pumps a little faster. Your head snaps back and you scream shortly, breathing deep before your muscles tremble and a loud, “Fuck!” escapes. You fall limp to the bed and Sans’ movements slow.

You pick up your head to look down at him lying between your legs and laugh breathlessly when he slowly licks his teeth, his sockets narrowed seductively at you. “Oh, you’re not getting off that easy, kitten.” He growls when you move to sit up.

His fingers stroke that sensitive spot, made more sensitive by the orgasm. Your body shudders and another scream escapes when he covers you again with his mouth. He’s gentler this time, more focused, and it makes everything twice as intense. He lets you squirm, not holding your hips down as your body bucks and you wordlessly beg for more.

Your hands grasp at his skull when you cum and you think you feel him moan against your skin. Your back bows forward and the ecstasy burning in your veins steals your voice. Muscles twitch and a quiet whimper trembles from you as he holds you at that peak for as long as possible.

He pulls his fingers away and you collapse. Sans chuckles, his baritone rumble still makes blood rush to your core and you moan weakly, eyes closing. The bed springs groan and your heart quickens, eyes opening again when you feel his skin brush yours. He crawls on top of you, hunger burning in his sockets. “So, do I win yet?” he breathes against your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin.

Your eyes flutter, your teeth bite into your bottom lip to halt the whimper brewing. “Y-yeah. You won.” You admit, taking a head-clearing breath.

Sans laughs, pulling back to look down at you. “Then what’s my prize?” His pupils travel slowly down your body, his hand follows them back to your face, leaving a trail of sparking magic in it’s wake.

“Wh-what…what do you want?” You ask, struggling to think clearly.

He slowly licks his teeth again, his tongue just barely brushing the sharp edges as a leer grows. “Can you stand? I’d really love to fuck you from the back.”

“I doubt it, but I can try.”

He laughs, sliding easily from the bed to the floor. Your legs have a harder time following, when your knees threaten to buckle you catch yourself on the edge of the bed. He catches your chin when you stand again and kisses you deeply, his tongue twisting with yours. He jerks you closer, his hands grabbing your hips. You squeak into the kiss as his rock-hard dick presses into your stomach.

Roughly, his hands drag down to cup your ass as he bites your lip. He easily lifts you, catching you at the spot your thigh meets your glute. You wobble, thrown off balance, and scramble for his shoulders as he spins you to the wall beside the headboard. The impact makes you gasp, the cold wall sticks to your sweaty skin.

“I thought you wanted me to stand?” You ask as he guides your legs around his waist and his hand reaches for his cock. “You can’t stand. But I can.” He replies simply, you adjust your weight so he can slide in. Your eyes roll back and your hands grip his shoulders harder as you drop onto him.

His hands shift back to your ass and he gives a test thrust, you cry-out at the impact and he hums appreciatively. “Make sure you hold on, kitten,” he growls against your neck. You grip him more securely and he slowly finds his pace.

You quickly lose yourself as he forcefully fucks you into the wall. Your nails dig into him, muscles burning again. Magic pulses through your veins to sit in your core, coaxing your tired body into another peak of bliss. It teases you, bringing you right to the edge before backing off. You chew the inside of your lip as you flip between growing frustration and mind-numbing pleasure.

After an immeasurable time you can feel his movements start to falter. “Sh-shit…” he moans brokenly. The magic pulses higher and you can’t help moaning, “Please, please, Sans…” You reach that paradoxical moment where you resist the approaching climax because you intuit it will be _overwhelming_ in a physical, mental and emotional way.

Sans palm slams against the wall as he screams, his other hand gripping you painfully. You cry into his shoulder, hands scrambling for something substantial to hold onto as you both cum. You hold his head against your neck as he moans again and another wave of magic steals your breath. Tears stream as you throw your head back and your walls tightly spasm around him a few more times.

Sans’ legs wobble and you both fall unceremoniously to the floor in a heap. Neither of you have the energy to complain as you struggle to catch your breath. You’re nearly asleep when you realize the stabbing pain in your rib-cage is Sans’ wrist pinned at a terrible angle under your back, and the burning sensation down the back of your thigh is because your knee is twisted over his shoulder.

“Sans. We…we gotta move.”

A waking snort followed by a grumble is your reply. His face nuzzles closer to your neck before a soft “pop”. You’re only half-surprised to find yourself in his bed, in a slightly better position. Instead of you two squished between each other and the wall, you’re now piled on top of each other on the bed.

But you’re too drained to move again.

At least his joints weren’t stabbing you anymore, you reason as you fall asleep with your limbs tangled together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we return you to your regularly scheduled porn ;p


	13. Wake Up Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I didn't hear what you were saying.  
> I live on raw emotion baby,  
> I answer questions never, maybe,  
> And I'm not kind if you betray me..."

Sans leans heavily in the doorway, waiting to catch the attention of the queen and the kid. They were completely engrossed in the puzzle they were working on. Toriel smiles thoughtfully, chewing her bottom lip with her sharp teeth as she scans the table before reaching for her still-steaming cup of tea. He finds himself smiling as he watches the kid stand in their chair to place a piece on the far side of the table.

“OH! That’s what that silly thing was, antlers!”

The kid beams proudly before noticing Sans. They do a quick double-take and ease down from the table.

*Sans! I didn’t see you there.

His smile fades when Toriel looks up. Her posture stiffens and she sips her tea again. “Hey kiddo, can I borrow you for a bit?”

A dark excitement dances behind their eyes but they reign it in before looking at Toriel with an innocent smile, seeking permission. She nods once, conceding. “Just be back by dinner, your father wants us to all eat together tonight.” She doesn’t look up again as the kid runs to Sans happily.

He offers his hand and they happily take it. With a soft “pop” they land in front of the Lab in hotland, miles away from the castle in New Home. “I’m not sure which one you are this time, but I’m hoping that creepy fuckin’ smile means you’ll help me out.”

They giggle and the sound makes a shudder crawl up Sans’ spine. “On principle, I _despise_ what you do. But I’ve really gotta get this out of my system. Do you…” He closes his eyes, his jaw clenches in disgust and he growls a little at himself in frustration. “Do you think you could…reset a couple times for me?”

Their eyes sparkle, the red irises shining with delight.

*I never thought you would ask such a thing! Ooooh…. Yes. But only if I get to watch.

Sans shudders again. “Deal.” He turns and knocks on the fifteen-foot tall steel doors of the lab before stepping back and looking into the security camera. An intercom buzzes to life to the right in the wall. _“Sans?! Ooh, what’s the pleasure, my love? And Frisk too. Mm, I’ll be_ right _down!”_

He stands with his hands in his pockets and waits in barely contained discomfort while the kid pulls at a loose string on their sweater. They frown before tying it off and tucking it back under the hem. Sans feels incrementally better when Alphys opens the lab doors. Even if there is blood, dust and a strange fluid staining her lab-coat.

She beams, clapping her claws together once in excitement. “Well, well, what under earth could you two want with me on such a lovely day?”

“How’s the cat?” Sans asks after Alphys beckons them inside the brightly lit entrance. She smiles slyly at him over her shoulder. “I figured you would be down here sooner or later for him. He’s not broken yet, fortunately. I’m saving the more uh,” she can’t help but laugh to herself. “ _intense_ tests for when he won’t resist so much.”

The kid follows a few feet behind Sans, looking around the huge lab with interest. He doesn’t like them being at his back, it keeps him on edge.

“Do you need him unbroken?” He asks deadpan as she leads them through another sliding door to a long hallway.

Alphys chuckles darkly. “Oh, love, I did all the tests I needed him spry for weeks ago in anticipation of your visit.”

Sans can’t help but catch her grim enthusiasm, his heart flutters faster and a small burst of magic floods his veins.

She types in a pass-code by the elevator and it “dings” pleasantly. The doors open and Sans and the kid follow her inside. When the doors close Alphys adds, “I do request, however, that you don’t kill him. I haven’t quite mastered bringing them back from a pile of ash and I have at least a year or more of experiments lined up for him.”

For a brief moment, Sans and the kid share a glance in appreciation of their rarely shared goal. The moment passes and Sans feels a little dirtier for it.

Alphys looks pointedly at Sans. “I mean it. I won’t be happy if I lose him, and while I consider you one of my very few ‘friends’ I would—”

“Don’t worry about it Alph, that’s why the kid’s here. To uh, keep me in check, so to speak.” Sans interrupts her with an easy smile.

She glances at the kid, her brow furrowing. “An odd choice, to say the least. Were Papyrus and Undyne unavailable? Or any of the guards? Or…an adult?”

Sans laughs shortly. “Pap doesn’t know I’m here, neither does Temperance, and other than the kid they’re the only ones who could convince me to stop.” He half-lies. Her name sounds weird in his mouth, he much preferred her nickname. But Alphys didn’t know her by “Kitten.” Temperance just didn’t sound right for her. Maybe it was apt at one point, but not anymore. Not to him, anyway.

Plus, it was a really hard name to scream during sex…

Alphys gives a small shrug, accepting his answer.

“You count me as a friend?” He asks with an honest smile.

A dark yellow blush paints her cheekbones and she shoves her glasses further up her snout. The bright light reflects off the lenses, hiding her eyes. “Of course,” she replies, standing straighter when the elevator opens on the lowest floor. “I trust no one else to give me a second opinion.”

They follow her into the next long hallway, avoiding the branches left and right and heading straight down the middle. “And…you kept me from taking things too far when no one else would.”

Sans’ heart aches at those words. In this alternate universe, Alphys had always had a dark and eager fascination with the limits of monster souls. Sometimes she would get too excited “in the pursuit of science” and push her subjects way too hard. Recognizing the very thin line she was walking, he kept a close eye on her. He had stepped in more than once to keep her from killing monsters, and when she didn’t listen and accidentally killed hundreds of monsters in the span of a month she nearly took her own life.

Her excitement (and obscene LV at 16) still terrified most of the underground, but she’d reigned herself in substantially compared to before.

They reach a door at the end of the hall with a slit of a window in the center. On the other side, Sans can see Taa sitting with his knees tucked to his chest on his bed in the back corner of the room. His tail swishes and he stares absently at the large screen on the wall. It shows continuous footage of the main waterfall in WaterFall.

“It keeps them sane longer if they have some sort of distraction.” Alphys explains as she presses her palm onto the scanner. The door unlocks with a resounding “clack” and Taa’s head snaps to the door, his tail falling flat and his grip tightening on his own arms. The screen goes black on the wall.

“There’s no handle on the inside. I trust thirty minutes is long enough?” She asks with her claw on the handle.

Sans smiles as he makes eye contact with Taa, he knows his pupils vanish when his vision is suddenly over-saturated with color. “Oh yeah. Plenty of time, friend.” He replies with a smile. She opens the door and stands back as Sans slowly stalks inside with the kid at his back. The door closes behind them with a quiet hiss of the air sliding through the tight and narrow frame.

When the bolt slides home his smile only grows.

Taa’s eyes narrow in confusion when he sees the kid, but he just shakes his head. His legs fall sideways to the neatly made bed and he sighs. “Almost had me convinced you weren’t going to visit.” He says with a smirk. “But I know the mad scientist has tons of shit planned out for me, so you’re not going to kill me.” He scratches his head before leaning on one of his paws.

His thin black whiskers twitch as he smiles, blinking slowly at Sans. “So, what’d you come for? To get all the juicy details about the _hours_ I had with your human before Grillby got there to stop me? How the sweet, darling Theodora convinced her they got there in time?” He purrs with wicked delight. “Or maybe about how eager she was to please me once my magic was in control of her?”

“How many times until he starts remembering?” Sans asks, his voice unsettlingly even for the white-hot rage bubbling through him. Just like the previous two times he’d seen Taa, he could see flashes of how true his words were. And it didn’t make it any easier, or make his outrage any less consuming.

The kid frowns for a second before sitting on the floor cross-legged. They prop their elbows on their knees and rest their head in their hands, biting their bottom lip in eager anticipation. Taa shudders at the expression. He may want to provoke Sans into killing him, but he didn’t want anything to do with the kid.

*The record for _not_ remembering is four back-to-back, I believe?

Taa sits up now, moving away from the wall. His fur ruffles along his back, the shudder passes all the way to the tip of his tail. “Wh-what is she talking about?”

Sans rolls his shoulders, stretches his neck, taking a moment to savor the palpable fear.

*You’re not worried about him telling Alphys?

He shakes his head. “Nope. When I’m done with him, he’s going to be lucky to remember his own fucking name.”

*You wear scary well, Sans.

The first three deaths are quick. In his anger, Sans threw him too hard against the wall or the ceiling and he died instantly. The kid boredly resets to the instant Taa sits up. When he reappears on his bed the third time he screams shortly, his chest heaving, but the confusion is clear. He’s scared and doesn’t know why. He wants to scramble under his bed, but he can’t move.

Taa’s soul shines on his chest under his white tank top and the next four deaths are a little slower, two or three wall slams now.

The eighth time he’s crying when he snaps back into existence.

*Take longer. There’s too many layers. You’re going to make a tear.

The kid reminds Sans when Taa’s soul shines again.

“My pleasure.”

Taa cries out in fear as Sans lifts him from the bed. This time he struggles against the magic, not that that could possibly save him. Bones shoot up from the floor and ceiling, impaling Taa between them like massive teeth. He sputters and wheezes, blood oozes slowly down the soft white pillars and the kid’s eyes shine. Taa’s outstretched paw twitches as he struggles to suck air into his crushed ribcage, his eyes grow wide and glassy before he dissolves into dust between the slowly grinding epiphysis’.

A sensation that could only be described as a ripple of…static rushes over Sans. A feeling he’d long ago, but not soon enough, learned to recognize as a reset.

Taa covers his mouth to stifle his scream, his eyes wide and unseeing as tears spill onto his fur.

“How much time we got left?” Sans looks at the kid. Their eyes are locked on Taa, a soft awe tugging at their lips.

*Twenty-three minutes.

They reply without looking away from Taa. Or blinking…or even bothering to move their mouth with their words like they usually pretended to.

Sans is more creeped out by the sinister glee he feels at their response than their reaction. But for now, he lets that part of him go and very slowly grabs hold of Taa’s soul.

“N-no,” he whimpers pitifully. “I-I-I’m sorry…pl-please…” A weak, four-claw attack spawns, fading before it even gets close to him and the kid. Another attack tries to manifest and fails before Sans and the kid could figure out what it was supposed to be.

“Ple-please, just don’t br-bring me back.”

“Hm, what was that, seven times in a row?” Sans asks, ignoring him. “Nope, wait, that’s definitely nine, sorry.” His left fist clenches until Taa struggles for air. “Or was it ten?”

Sans’ arm shakes with furious concentration as he very, very slowly crushes the cats’ ribs one by one by gradually increasing the force pushing him into the wall. The crackling sound reminds him of snapping twigs…

Poof.

Taa bursts into dust.

*Take a break.

Sans jumps when the kid reaches out for his hand. His chest is heaving and sweat drips down his skull. “No.”

They hold onto his hand until he glares down at them. They insist, *It’s time to take a break. I’m not saying you have to stop completely, but just…breathe a little.

Sans jerks his hand from their grip and looks back to the small pile of ash-colored dust on the bed, the blankets disheveled by Taa’s panicked flailing. His jaw clenches and unclenches several times before he realizes the kid had a point. Ten deaths, each more satisfying than the last. He was pushing it, not only physically but mentally.

He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his sweat-drenched face.

“Maybe…” he starts, but changes his mind. “How likely is he going to remember that in the next life, you think?”

They shrug. *He’s definitely going to shit himself if he sees you again, regardless.

He nods to himself. “Okay. I’m good.”

The static rolls over him and Taa curls into a ball, gripping either side of his face with his paws. Sans slowly walks toward him, each step makes him flinch, tucking himself into an ever smaller ball. “What’s your name?” He growls.

Taa’s eyes shut tightly, he scrunches his paws around his ears to block out the sound of Sans’ voice as he quietly sobs. “T-T-T…T-T-T…” is all he can manage and Sans is satisfied.

He steps back and when he’s out of pouncing distance he looks at the kid. “I’m ready if you are.”

They stand and take Sans’ offered hand. With a “pop” they’re on the other side of the door. Taa crumples in relief and curls into the fetal position with his back against the wall.

*Was it worth it?

“He’ll recover. He was just scared shitless.” Sans answers without really answering.

*Am I taking us back, or are you?

“I am. I don’t like making people forget.” He turns away from the cell and leads the way to the elevator. He was running low on magic and needed to save some energy to get the kid home and then himself.

Alphys meets them at the elevator. “I shouldn’t be surprised you got yourself out.” She says with a roll of her eyes. “How bad is he?”

“You could get him to go full Stockholm if you hugged him right now.”

Alphys’ eyes sparkle with the possibilities as her head tilts with a smile. “I…trust you can see yourselves out?” She asks, passing them in the hallway. Sans gives a soft chuckle before he grabs the kids’ hand and takes them back to the castle in New Home.

His knees wobble and his face flushes cold when they arrive. He catches himself on a wall and takes a few deep breaths.

They were in the courtyard in front of the steps. He covers a yawn with the back of his hand as he eases himself to the ground. “I might uh, just close my eyes…for a few minutes.” He almost can’t finish his sentence before his head lolls forward onto his chest.

The kid smiles briefly at the skeleton before they sit beside him.

*

Sans snorts awake nearly an hour later, his phone was vibrating insistently in his coat. He jumps when he sees the kid staring at him. “Oh shit, kid.” They can’t help but smile back at him while he retrieves his phone.

Papyrus was calling. He winces at the time, he’d meant to get home before his brother so he wouldn’t notice he was missing. He unlocks the screen and answers. “Hey.”

 _“Sans.”_ Papyrus begins accusingly. _“Where are you?”_

“Just taking a nap.”

His brother gives a long-suffering groan. _“Ugh…in public too, no doubt. Well, hurry up. Your human girlfriend has been texting you. Apparently, she’s hungry.”_

Sans smiles. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit.”

 _“Good.”_ And with that, Papyrus hangs up.

“Welp, time to get you home, kiddo.” He starts to stand but pauses when they give him a somber expression. One that was achingly familiar and completely foreign on that pale, rosy-cheeked face.

*We’ve been talking while you were asleep.

Sans’ blood runs cold as he waits for them to continue. His stomach twists in a knot when their expression returns to the usual charming grin.

*Frisk thinks trying again would be the best way to fix everything, try to put it back the way it was the first time. _I_ know things are too fucked to fix. What do _you_ think?

He doesn’t know how to respond at first. “Th…the amount of raw power needed to do a multiverse reset would be…” he shakes his head. “ _astronomical_ , bordering on infinite.”

*So, I was right.

Their face becomes solemn once more and Sans’ soul aches. He’d thought his friend was gone forever. “Frisk…”

*We’re not resetting then. No use in messing up any further. I was just wondering if I could…take it all back.

“I don’t think it can be taken back, kiddo.” For the first time in a long time the nickname was endearing.

They nod, giving a little soft sigh. They look back at him with a friendly smile. *Don’t hate Chara just because she’s not me. That’s not her fault. I was the one who went off the deep end, she just offered a solution. One that _you_ suggested after all.

Sans closes his eyes with a shake of his head. “Yeah, I know. I just thought it’d destroy everything so the murdering would stop. I don’t think any of us expected a total corruption of reality. It…it either fixed it all or everything went black in the other universes.”

*Again, not her fault. That’s on me. This weird, dark world is on me.

He smiles weakly. “Just talking to you is nice though. I wish you’d come out more.”

They shrug. *It hurts too much.

“I know.” He closes his eyes.

*I’ll try.

“Thank you.” Sans turns in time to see that bittersweet smile fade. It’s slowly replaced with a different, but not exactly smiling face.

*C’mon. Walk me home so my mom doesn’t think you’re a shitty babysitter.

They stand and head up the stairs without looking back. Sans follows after them, jogging to catch up. “Hey, kid.” They turn to look at him. “I’ll probably never trust you, either of you. But if you meant what you said about the resets, then…thanks.” Their eyes widen when he pulls them into a tight hug.

“Let’s go, your mom’s going to be pissed if you two miss dinner.” He throws an arm over their shoulders and pretends not to notice them wiping their eyes with their sleeve.

The king and queen are sitting in front of the fireplace. Toriel is reading softly out loud with a gentle smile. A larger than average golden flower in a boot rests in her lap. Seeing them walk in, Toriel closes her book, revealing a face on the flower. It frowns suspiciously at Sans, but he ignores it.

“Hey, Tori, Gorey. Kiddo’s safe and sound. We had fun.”

Asgore chuckles warmly as the kid leaps into his lap. Toriel stares back at Sans in pleasant shock, it was the first time he’d said anything to her in nearly three years. When she’d told him she wanted to live with her husband now that their children were mostly back in her life he hadn’t taken it well. He didn’t yell or even tell her it was a stupid idea to go back to someone she didn’t love, he didn’t say anything. At all.

He didn’t take up the offer to keep dating afterward either.

“I’ll…see you guys later. Have a good night.” He smiles just for Toriel before turning to leave.

“Well, he was in a pleasant mood, wasn’t he?” Asgore asks no one, watching the skeleton disappear.

“Y…yes. Um, excuse me.” Toriel sets the flower in her chair as she rushes to her room before breaking down in happy tears.

*

Sans leans back as he teleports so when he arrives in his living room he falls right onto the couch. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions with a smile.

“SANS! Where have you been?” Papyrus yells.

Sans’ smile widens, he rolls his head on the cushion to look at his brother fuming next to the TV. “Underground.”

“Ugh. Why?”

“The kid wanted to talk to me.” He half-lies.

Papyrus shakes his head in a way that makes it obvious he was rolling his eyes. “You and humans, I swear. You’re so weird.”

“I’m not the only monster that likes humans. The king and queen do, too. So do lots of others. I think it’s just our _magical_ personalities that win them over.”

Temperance snorts from the upstairs hallway. Sans manages to smile even brighter, his pointed teeth look less menacing with the sparkle in his sockets. He watches her sway down the steps toward him.

“Someones in a good mood for a change.” She says with a smile, leaning over the back of the couch to look down at him. He strokes her soft jaw, she plants a kiss on his forehead and for a second he closes his eyes. Papyrus scoffs indignantly at the tender display and huffs off angrily to the kitchen, so they don’t see him struggling not to make decidedly undignified sounds of glee.

“What’s the occasion?” She asks, tilting her head curiously. Sans winks up at her and looks at his brother making coffee in the kitchen. He raises his voice so it carries. “Oh, I just love you. So much! You’re just the absolute best—”

“GAH!” Papyrus exclaims, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “I get it! I’m leaving! Just! Stop being so fucking cute!” He stalks past them and grabs his keys.

“Don’t forget to ask Mettaton for your coat back!” Temperance teases as he heads out the door. Papyrus grumbles incoherently. “What’s the matter bro? Can’t come _up_ with a come _back?_ ” Papyrus yells angrily from the other side of the door. They both laugh good-naturedly as she walks around the couch to join Sans, cuddling up under his arm.

“Really though, what’s up?” She asks, looking curiously up at him.

He sighs. “Oh, things actually look pretty bright. I think I realized if I want things to be better, I just need to put some effort into it.”

She gasps mockingly. “Whaaat? You mean—” She holds a hand to her chest dramatically, “you actually l-lea-learned something?!”

Sans laughs, nudging her playfully. “I know, right? It’s the end of the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do a chapter from Sans' perspective, and this seemed like the best one to do it for.


	14. No Curtain Call

You’re downstairs in the kitchen of the skele-bros apartment, slowly stirring vegetables in a new wok with a wooden spoon. The egg timer dings happily, vibrating across the counter. You catch it, setting the spoon down as you switch your attention to the pot rapidly bubbling with oil. You pull up the small basket sitting in the pot and shake the excess oil off before setting it on a plate to drain.

You turn off the oil and shuffle the vegetables around the wok again before dividing them onto three plates. You dump the crispy fried beef strips into the wok and pour the prepared sauce over it, letting it bubble and begin to caramelize before turning it. Satisfied it’s done, you scoop white rice onto the plates and pile the Beijing beef on top of it.

Sans and Papyrus would be home soon from another trip to the underground. You’d told Sans to grab something to drink on his way home. He hadn’t replied, but you figured he would grab something anyway.

Carefully, you set the table one plate at a time so you don’t drop anything. Just as you grab napkins and turn off the stove, the front door opens.

Happily you turn, biting your bottom lip with nervous excitement. It had been a while since you cooked for anyone, you hoped you’d followed the recipe right. Papyrus walks in and pauses immediately, “Human, did you cook dinner?”

“Uh, yeah. Sans said you liked Chinese too, so I made one of my favorites.” You rub the back of your neck anxiously before gesturing to the table with your free hand. “You can dig in if you’re hungry.”

“Sans should be here soon, he was just stopping by the castle, I believe. We should wait for him.” He says lightly as he shuts the door and heads upstairs to his room.

For a few moments you stand uncertainly on the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. You pull out your phone and check if Sans had replied and sigh when you see he hasn’t. You walk back into the kitchen and sit at the table watching the steam curling away from the plates.

Papyrus descends the steps dressed a little less formally than before. He usually wore his dented black shoulder plates and stamped chest armor when he went underground, but at home he preferred his loose fitting crop-tops and black jeans. The past few weeks he had loosened up around you, no longer feeling the need to put up the super edgy front he usually had.

In fact, today he wasn’t even wearing shoes. A first for him that you’d seen. His top today reads “be polite, fucker” in black with bleach discoloring the fabric around the letters.

You snort, leaning against the back of the chair. “Where do you find those things?”

He shrugs. “I stole this one from Metta. But Sans finds them most of the time. Started as a bad joke and he just kept it up.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” You agree as Pap pulls back a chair to sit across from you. He frowns after checking the time on his phone. He rolls his eyes, “Ugh, he’s so bad at time-keeping. He said he was right behind—”

That telltale “pop” rings in your ears and Pap cuts off his sentence as you both turn to the living room to see Sans striding into the kitchen with a six pack of beer hooked on his bony fingers. “—me.” Papyrus finishes lamely. “What kept you, brother?” he asks as Sans drops the six pack on the table, his pupils dancing over the food as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

Your heart warms as he runs his hand over your back before sitting down. “This looks _fantastic_ , kitten. Did you make this?”

You give a small nod and pull one of the beers free, frowning slightly as you read the label. It was a local beer, you hadn’t seen it before.

“Uh, Alphys caught me at the castle.”

“Alphys?” Papyrus asks incredulously, accepting the can Sans hands to him. “What under earth was she doing there?”

Sans shakes his head, closing his eyes for a brief second. You don’t like the expression on his face but it vanishes before you can really place it. It’s quickly replaced by an easy, but fake, smile as he cracks open the can. “Just happened to be there when I was. Think she was talkin’ to the kid.”

“Mm,” Papyrus replies flatly. “Strange.”

“Yeah,” the easy smile is gone as he takes a drink. “I don’t like it either.”

You struggle to understand the nuance of the conversation, it was like trying to get an inside joke years old that you’d heard for the first time.

“Everything okay?” You ask curiously, eyes darting inquisitively between the brothers in hopes of finding an explanation. Papyrus spears beef and a bean pod on his fork and Sans nods reassuringly before shoving a bite of beef in his mouth. His eyes close in appreciation and Papyrus hums in admiration, “Human, this is _DELICIOUS!_ ”

Sans hums earnestly in agreement, taking another bite as you jump from Papyrus’ sudden outburst before laughing. He often yelled when he was emotionally charged, but it still caught you off guard every time. “Really?” You question, finally taking the bite that had been neglected on your fork all this time.

“YES!” The brothers reply at the same time.

You laugh again around the food in your mouth, nodding to yourself in surprise. “Wow, this turned out better than I expected!”

“Mm, might have to convince you to be more house-wifey. This is even better than take-out!” Sans remarks. You roll your eyes. “Yeah, in your dreams, mister.” His eyes meet yours and the smirk he gives you, promising to flesh out some naughty fantasy, makes a thrill race through your veins.

You clear your throat and try the beer to hide the blush burning in your cheeks. “Yes, if it is not too much of a hassle, I would certainly enjoy trying more of whatever you’d be willing to cook.” Papyrus adds, oblivious to his brother’s wink and sultry grin.

Your eyes widen in disbelief and Sans’ face falls flat when Pap lifts his head, wondering if he’d offended you somehow.

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, sure, I can start cooking some more stuff. I mean, I haven’t cooked in a while, so I’m glad it came out so nicely! I’m glad you two like it so much. I mean, like I said, it’s been a while…” You fade out, stuffing food in your mouth when you realize you’re babbling.

Under the table, Sans’ sneaker creeps closer until his leg is pressed against yours. Just that contact is enough to make your heart flutter faster. You pause for a second and focus very intensely on your plate, refusing to look up at him for fear of making your sudden arousal obvious to them both. Sans was certainly aware of it now that he’d touched you. Didn’t need to make dinner awkward for Papyrus on top of the gloating that was going to come later.

Sans had explained that there were “side effects” to what he referred to as “soul sex”, when you had had sex with your souls exposed and touching. It often made partners more _amorous_ when they were close or touching. Something you _definitely_ hadn’t minded, but it was still taking some getting used to.

But right now…he was just using it to torture you.

You already had an above average sex-drive, but this intensified everything. Sex was leaps and bounds better when you were _desperate_ for it. And a tiny part of you loved it.

Well, much more than a tiny part.

But most of you was terribly curious about the conversation he’d been having with his brother earlier. You pull your leg away from his only to have him follow it. You cast a glance at him and it falls on a face far too concerned with food to notice. A frown pulls at your lips and you look at Papyrus instead.

“You guys were talking about the underground?” You prompt innocently, taking a long sip from your beer.

“Mm,” Pap nods, quickly swallowing his bite. “Yes, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. Just bizarre that our dear Dr. Alphys would be outside of her lab, is all. She’s quite the hermit, you see.”

“Hm,” you look at Sans. He doesn’t add anything but continues to eat. A small crease puckers for half a second between his sockets before it smooths over once more. A smile tugs his sharp teeth into view and his knee rubs slowly against yours as he looks at Papyrus.

“Anyway, she caught me at the castle and she wanted to talk while I was there. Damn near talked my ear off.”

Pap scoffs, his fork waiting by his face, “You bring out the strangest qualities in others.” He takes his bite.

Sans frowns playfully before smiling again. “So you’ve told me, like, a hundred times now.”

Pap frowns while chewing. “Have I?” After a moment he shrugs. “I must have.”

*

You clear away the dishes after the brothers finish off any potential leftovers. Papyrus strolls the to the living room, thanking you again for dinner as he turns on the TV. You know it’s a big deal for him to say thanks once, let alone four times and smile broadly at him while the sink fills with steaming water.

A light pink tinges his cheekbones as he flips through channels, leaning his face on his hand to hide it.

Sans watches you as you turn back to the sink and start scrubbing the congealed sauce from the wok. You frown to yourself, wishing you’d let it soak during dinner.

You hear the soft click of the downstairs bathroom door closing and almost instantly after hands are gripping your hips, tugging you backward until a hard dick presses against your back. You gasp and quickly recover, laughing.

“I was joking about the house-wife stuff, but it is kinda hot.” He bends down to growl against your ear. His gravelly tone sends goosebumps across your skin. You shake yourself and get back to scrubbing, pushing your butt into him with a crooked smirk.

“Maybe I should buy an apron, fishnets and high heels?” You whisper, not sure how much Papyrus can hear in the bathroom.

Sans’ fingers reflexively dig into your hips at the thought and you snicker. “I could start doing chores all dressed up, tell the maid to stop coming by and wear more make-up.” You continue, barely aware you’d thoroughly cleaned the wok by now as you rise to your toes to grind against Sans.

He grunts and starts gently thrusting.

The door opens and the pressure at your hips and against your back are gone. You fall back flat on your feet, taking a steadying breath as Papyrus walks back into the living room and plops onto the couch once more.

You rinse the wok and glance over your shoulder at Sans. He’s sitting at the table again, pupils hungrily watching you. You smirk and wink, feeling a rush of pride when he covers a shiver with a shifting of his weight.

You take your sweet time with the rest of the dishes, washing them oh-so-slowly. Taking extra care to dry each by hand and put them back in their proper place. Making sure you reach as languidly as possible, letting your shirt ride up as you bend at the waist to tuck the wok in one of the lower cabinets. You know that your shirt hangs low so Sans can get a good look at your bra from where he sits. When you chance another glance at him, his fists have clenched around the fabric of his shorts and you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together.

With a careful, smug smile you drain the sink and dry your hands.

“It’s getting kinda late, think I’m going to head to bed. Goodnight, Papy. You coming Sans?” You call lightly as you cross the living room and head up the stairs.

“Goodnight, human. Brother.”

“Night Pap.” Sans says flatly, following you at a strictly measured pace.

You can barely suppress your smile when you open Sans’ bedroom door and he walks in behind you.

The door slams shut. Sans turns and shoves you roughly to the wall, a hand pinning you there by your collar bone. You laugh and he swallows it with his kiss before reaching down for your thigh, hiking it up near his hip. The erection pressing into you makes you hum in appreciation.

Teeth rake down your neck and your head rolls back against the wall with a short moan. You reach down, trying to wiggle your fingers into his waistband and he shivers silently, his tongue lapping at your skin. Fingertips brush smooth invisible skin and his breathing catches in your ear. The weight of him leans into you as his teeth slowly break skin and you can’t help squirming, whimpering with need.

Your hand finally manages to grip him fully and pumps, he groans into your neck and bites down. His hand harshly finding its way under your shirt to massage your breast. Your hips work without thinking, grinding against the back of your hand as you carefully stroke him.

He pulls his teeth away and kisses you, swallowing the moan as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. Without warning he pulls away again and drops to his knees, your hand coming free of his shorts unexpectedly. He tugs at your jeans, popping the button off in his trembling haste. You barely have time to wonder at him before your pants and undies are at your ankles and his lips secured over your mound, sucking and licking loudly at your clit.

Your head snaps back as his hands crawl up your thighs to cup your ass, tugging you to a better angle. One of your hands slides over his skull, encouraging him and the other uselessly struggles to grip the smooth wall.

Slowly his hands slip from your ass as your muscles begin to tremble in an approaching climax. You struggle to tilt your head down to see him when his fingers begin to tease over your wet lower lips. Just out of the corner of your vision you can see his left forearm lazily pumping in his lap, it makes you shiver pleasurably. His pupils dance in wide sockets as your hand leaves the wall to slap the back of his skull, holding him to you tighter before your eyes can’t stay open.

“AH! _Saans!”_ You cry out, thighs shaking. Moments before you crest that wave of ecstasy he slides his fingers in deep and you scream wordlessly, back arching away from the wall as you spasm around his curved digits on your tip toes.

He catches you easily as your body gives out, cradling you against him. You breathe hard and chuckle when he starts planting kisses on your face and neck in quick succession. It was _very_ unlike him to be so affectionate. When you pull back to look at him he grips you tighter and you realize his erection was gone, too. Just a hand-job wouldn’t get him soft and you were pretty positive he hadn’t cum during that either.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” You ask after he refuses to let you pull away for a third time. His fierce grip was starting to get uncomfortable.

He shivers and doesn’t speak for a long moment. Your knees begin to ache from bracing on the floor and your skin throbs near your ankles where your jeans are digging into them. You push away from him, finally succeeding, and a lump catches in your throat.

Sans’ eyes are screwed shut, his head tilted forward. Blood trickles down his chin where his teeth have dug into his bottom lip. He takes a long breath through his nose. His fingers dig into your biceps when he dislodges his teeth, quickly licking away the blood. It’s barely noticeable on his dark red tongue.

Sans shakes his head slowly before speaking. “I-I…I’ve started seeing stuff happen before it does again. Somethings changed. And now…” Your heart sinks when he manages to look up at you, his pupils have shrank to pinpricks in his sockets. “Now this isn’t the furthest we’ve made it.”

He struggles to release your arms, probably noticing the bruises beginning to bloom under his grip. He shakes his head. “I saw several uh, scenarios play out just now. So, I went with one I hadn’t seen…but it doesn’t matter. It happened some other time, too. Even…” He fades out, head hanging as his hands slip from your arms. “Even this fucking conversation has happened already.”

For a second you sit in a daze, ignoring the signals of discomfort your body was sending. You open your mouth and he interrupts, “You’re going to say you believe me, but that it’ll be okay. And then I sit here for a few sullen minutes while you try to make me feel better and it doesn’t work. You try to hug me and I shove you back because I don’t want to cry like I’ve seen when you do that. You get upset and try to tell me it’s all just fine and I know it’s not.” He rubs his face with a defeated anger.

He sighs deeply and looks up at you with a small, one-shouldered shrug. “I kinda just want to skip all that and go to bed. That okay?”

You blink dumbly back at him before nodding, carefully standing and pulling your panties back up. You step out of your pants and help him to his feet. Even the few steps to the bed seem to exhaust him completely. He crumples to the mattress and you crawl next to him, trying and failing not to hurt when he turns his back to you. He half- curls and winces when you slide your arm around his waist. The death grip he gives your hand makes you feel incrementally better.

For a long time you both lie stiffly in bed staring at the wall before falling into an uneasy sleep.


	15. Must Get Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO SORRY for the long wait! I tried to make it longer than usual to make up for it, especially when I realized it was looking more like a two-part chapter instead of just one. I wrote three-fourths of this last night. I finally had the free time to get all of the ideas out! I had lots of life stuff drop on me in March and it just didn't let up.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Your phone wakes you up and you reach blindly sideways for it on Sans’ nightstand. It rings loudly, vibrating across the table-top and falling just as your vision adjusts enough to see it.

You groan and lean out of bed to grab it—fingertips rolling it closer before scooping it up—as Sans grumbles loudly. He pulls a pillow over his skull and it does nothing to muffle his complaining. “Just answer the fucking thing!”

The muscle in your jaw clenches as you sit upright and answer the call, pinching the brow of your nose as you struggle to wake up. It was one of your CEO’s secretaries. The mousey guy who smelled like brown sugar and loved Indian food. He didn’t know it, but you’d convinced his boss to let him come back after he took a month off for his mom dying.

He chuckles at your sleep-thick voice. “Sorry, I was hoping I’d catch you actually awake. How’ve you been?”

Sans grumbles incoherently, tugging the blanket tighter around him and you take the hint. You walk into the hallway and lean heavily on the handrail over the living room. Papyrus had been staying away from the apartment lately, so you aren’t worried he’ll see you standing in your underwear.

“I’ve been better,” you answer flatly. “What’s up? They wanting to reschedule the board meeting?”

“Nah, they’ve held it off for a while longer. But, I was told to slip into our next conversation that they’d really appreciate an ‘email of intent’ or something like that.”

You snort. It wasn’t a secret you two had gotten along okay, but it was weird that they assumed you two would talk often. “Uh, sure, I’ll try to send one soon-ish.” You shrug. “But as long as they don’t run the company into the ground, I really don’t care what they do.”

“Right? They think the stock is stagnating so, I think they’re trying to ask for the go-ahead for something without twisting your arm. But who knows what.”

“Probably some new marketing thing they wanna do.” You add lightly.

“Well, I oughta go and let them know the message has been passed along. Have a good one.”

“Yeah, you too.”

You close your eyes, letting your phone hang loose in your grip. With a sigh you push away from the handrail and head back into Sans’ room, making your way to the bathroom. He’s grumbling again as you turn on the light and with a roll of your eyes lean around the doorframe. “If you want me to hear you, you’ll have to come in here, grumpy.” You tease before shutting the door.

“And it’s not like you couldn’t use a shower, either.” You mumble to yourself as you strip and hop in the tub. Water is spraying when the sliding door of the shower is slammed open, jumping the track for a moment and crashing loudly. Sans’ awful glare doesn’t falter after the loud bang. You yelp in surprise and slip on the curved edge of the tub attempting to back up. Your hand flails seconds too late and you hit the floor in a heap.

After a few disorienting seconds, you blink up at Sans’ considerably less scary face. He’s leaning over the tub, water soaks his shirt in an off-kilter circle and runs down his skull. Pain sparks through your back, up your spine and blooms into your skull. It shoots down your left arm from behind your shoulder, which hit the faucet on your way down.

His lips move and after an impressive amount of concentration you start to understand him.

“..re you okay? Say something, please!” his voice pleads as the ringing you hadn’t noticed until just now quickly fades.

You shove him back with a groan as you sit upright. “Back up,” you growl, reaching blindly behind you to turn off the shower.

He leans back, standing quickly when you haul yourself up.

“I-I’m sorry, I…” he fades out when you cut your eyes at him.

“You were just going to tell me something snarky because you’re in a bad mood. You scared the shit out of me!” Your head spins and you close your eyes, taking a slow breath through your nose. Great. Either you’d hurt your head, or your adrenaline was surging.

You open your eyes to Sans reaching for you. You tug your arm back, away from his grasp and step out of the tub around him. “Don’t touch me right now.”

“ _I’m sorry_. I mean it. I didn’t think you’d fall.”

“Oh yeah?” You snap, turning on him. “You mean, the great and all-knowing Sans didn’t _see_ me falling when you come bursting into the bathroom to yell at me? Holy fucking shit, you’re cured! Whoop-de-doo, lets go out and celebrate! Let me just make sure I didn’t crack my skull open first!”

Something like hurt flashes across his face before his pupils and expression vanish. A rush of spite floods your veins followed immediately by cold regret.

Standing naked with fists clenched as water still runs in thick rivulets to the bath mat, you stare icily back at him, waiting for his next move.

Seconds tick painfully by with the only sound the rushed beating of your heart.

He blinks, his empty gaze tilts slightly away from you. He blinks again and his pupils dimly flicker back to life. His shoulders sag. “No, I didn’t pay attention. Are you hurt?” Sans asks lamely, not looking at you.

Suddenly you feel awkwardly aware of your nakedness, for the first time in a very long time. With a small roll of your shoulders you cross an arm over your chest and turn away from him to glance in the mirror. There wasn’t any blood and while your back and neck felt sore, as well as a tender spot on your shoulder, you were also pretty sure you didn’t do any major damage.

“No, I’m fine.” You reply curtly, stepping into the bedroom to get dressed. His sudden change in demeanor was unsettling. You were still mad at him and didn’t feel like arguing naked. Maybe getting some clothes on would be enough time to calm yourself down.

You can feel irritation begin to prickle again as Sans hovers behind you as you dress. Pulling a shirt over your head you turn to him with eyebrows raised, “Yes?” you ask with as little aggravation in your tone as is possible.

“Do you think I need to be cured? That there’s something wrong with me?”

You nearly snap back “Why don’t you just look at another reality and see where I care?” But you stop yourself. With a tired sigh you run a hand over your face. “No, I don’t think there’s something wrong with you.”

“Then why’d you say I was ‘cured’ because I didn’t see what happened?” He growls.

“Sans, I don’t wanna fight right now.”

“Well, I do.” His voice rises and you cut your eyes at his reply. “What do you really think about me? Do you think I’m some broken thing? Are you just sticking around so you can fix me?!”

“No!” You snap back.

“Then what?! Why stay here if you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Because, I love you, even when you’re being an idiot.” You reply snarkily.

“Ugh! That’s not what I meant!” He throws his head back and takes a few angry paces. “I _meant_ ,” he starts slowly, deliberately enunciating his words like he was explaining something in a different language. “what about me needs ‘curing’?”

You heave a sigh again, pinching the brow of your nose.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately, too. If I’m that bad, just-“

“Oh my God, Sans! It was a slip of the fucking tongue, just drop it! I don’t think there’s anything about you that needs fixing! I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself!”

His face falls in confusion before his sockets scrunch in anger. “Get over myself?” He snaps, holding a hand to his chest.

“YES!” You scream in frustration. “Holy shit, Sans. I know you’ve dealt with this crap before, the whole… _seeing_ thing,” you angrily wave your hand in the air when you struggle for the right word. “I’m just waiting for you to be okay with it again. Obviously at some point in time you got over whatever hold it had on you, I figure at some point, you’ll…” you shrug lamely, most of the anger in you gone. “You’ll be okay with seeing again.”

“Wh-what?” his eyes close tightly like he can’t comprehend what you said. “It’s not something I just ‘get over’. It’s something that haunts me, all the time. When I run out of energy to pretend everything’s fine, this is what happens. This isn’t me ‘getting over’ anything. This is me burning out!”

He groans and runs a bony hand over his face, seeming to regret what he said.

“Sans…that’s no way to live.”

He growls. “I don’t really have a choice do I? It’s this…or death.” He adds the second part more quietly before turning to you, interrupting you before you can even start to speak. “So, million dollar question. Are you willing to put up with this, because I’m not changing. I’m just going to get worse.”

You scoff, managing a weak smile. “You’re not going to do the thing where you tell me to leave ‘for my own good’ or be an ass on purpose so I leave, are you?”

He gives a tired sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before looking expectantly at you. It makes him look so much older and so much smaller than he really is.

“I just want you to be…as happy and healthy as you can be.” You finally reply, licking your dry lips before adding, “And, I want to be with you, okay? I want to help as much as you’ll let me. Can you let me do that for you?”

Sans’ head falls forward. “You’re dumb. And I’m terrible, I’ll always be terrible.”

You take a few steps forward and wait until he looks back at you before you tell him, “Stop it.” He rolls his pupils so you rise to your toes and kiss him quickly.

He backs away and you hate the new space between you. He’s the only lover you’ve had that could make your emotions swing so wildly from anger to aching love in moments.

“I was mad earlier, I don’t think you’re cursed.” You carefully add.

He scoffs lightly in sarcastic disagreement before falling backwards onto the bed.

“You still want to argue?”

“No.” he replies sullenly.

You sit beside him and flop back onto the bed beside him. “Good, because I’m pretty tired of it.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.” He adds lamely.

You wave your hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah. Don’t do it again, okay?”

Sans grunts.

“So you don’t…?” His question hangs unfinished before you roll over and slide close to him, curling around his chest. “If you’re _really_ worried, why don’t we just do the thing we did a couple months ago? It’s basically like reading my mind, only it’s my emotions instead.” You look up at him curiously.

He shakes his head. “That’s…I dunno.”

You struggle to hide your disappointment, feeling him begin to prickle under your touch. He’d been avoiding any prolonged skin contact, probably to avoid anything that led to sex since it just exasperated his despair when he couldn’t find something “new” to do. Or at least new compared to what he saw.

You pull away, sitting up again so he doesn’t have to ask you to move, and study the far wall. Trying very hard to keep your emotions in check.

“I’d rather trust what you say than just _know_.” He softly offers.

Your eyes close and your lips purse to keep back angry words.

“I’m…uh…”

You look back at him, smiling at his struggle to put emotions into words. “You remember we did that because you couldn’t talk about things, right?”

He closes his eyes and seems to sink into the bed. “Yeah, but I…”

“Don’t wanna share?” You finish lamely for him.

He sighs and it turns into a groan before he hauls himself upright. “I’m sorry. For earlier and for the past few weeks.”

You shrug halfheartedly. “I know, but I’m just trying to help.”

Tired frustration leaks into his voice, “I know you are, but I just don’t want to.”

Sensing the conversation is going to turn into another argument you stand and manage a smile. “I’m going to make breakfast, we can talk or whatever later, okay? How about omelets?” You add, not giving him a chance to protest as you walk for the door.

Downstairs you pull eggs, spinach and quarter of an onion out of the fridge. You nearly drop the ingredients piled in your arms when Sans is revealed behind the door as you shut it. “Holy shit, how can a guy your size move so quietly?”

A shadow of a smile tugs his teeth into view as he gives a small shrug before handing you your phone. “It was buzzing again. You got a couple texts from Kathy.”

“Oh, shit!” You drop everything to the counter and take your phone from him. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it? Fuck. I was supposed to meet her for coffee at her place.”

“Coffee, huh?” Sans half-teases, lightly raising a socket as he leans against the fridge.

You roll your eyes, a small relief releasing the tension in your chest at his joking implication. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“I’d hope not, at least not where I can’t watch.” He manages a purr, his eyes narrowing.

“Ugh, perv.”

He shrugs one shoulder and a genuine smile flashes on his face. You smile back for a moment before his slowly fades and he points to your phone. “Shouldn’t keep a lady waiting.”

For a second you chew your lip, “You okay with me going? I mean, I was just about to make food.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” you quickly kiss him and grab your shoes and keys at the door. “I’ll _definitely_ make dinner when I get back.”

He laughs softly in the kitchen, “Yeah, yeah, get going already.”

You make sure to lock the door after it closes, knowing Sans will probably forget. Standing there you feel the fleeting happiness fade and you close your eyes to collect yourself. Your hair was still wet and the blooming bruise on your shoulder suddenly reminded you it was there.

Shoving your keys into your pocket you turn away from the apartment you hadn’t left in days and call a cab for Kathy’s.

*

You sit across from Kathy and sigh, tucking your feet under your butt on her couch. She shakes her head before running a hand over her thick curls, brushing them away from her heart-shaped face. You had just spent the last hour and a half catching her up on all your “happenings”. It had you feeling more drained and exhausted than you expected.

But the anxiety gripping your muscles felt nonexistent for the first time in months. It was a strangely light and shaky feeling.

You lean against the back of your hand, your elbow sinking into the soft cushion.

“I…have no words.” She eventually says, resting her head in her hands, her elbows propped on her knees.

You force a dry laugh. “Shitty. That’s a word.”

Kathy snorts, looking back at you over her shoulder. “So, you back with Scary McSkullface?” She asks brightly.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath before opening your eyes to reply. “Yeah.” You tell her with a smile.

“Oh,” her face falls and she sits up straighter. “Is everything okay?”

You give a short exhale, it could have been a laugh if you’d put more effort into it but you were too drained. When her eyebrows knit together in concern you shake your head dismissively. “No, no, it’s nothing bad or anything. He’s just…” Your sentence dies and you lick your lips. “It hasn’t been all cherry blossoms and cookie dough.” You shrug. “He’s just been depressed lately.”

“Oh,” she adds softer than before, looking away from you slowly. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Your eyebrows rise.

“Uh, I-I mean, other than the depression part,” she stammers, struggling to recover. “I mean, someone _being_ depressed, there’s nothing wrong with that. May-maybe he could go talk to someone? Like a therapist?” Her eyebrows twitch as she looks back at you suddenly. “Actually, have _you_ been to see someone, about…you know? The stuff?”

You exhale, harder than before but still not enough to effectively pretend to be in humor. “No. I don’t think he’d be up for that either.” You shake your head, running a hand over the back of your head a few times with a long sigh. “No, it’s okay. We just needed some alone time today.” You decide not to add that you’d gotten into your first fight since breaking up yesterday and he hadn’t even bothered to get out of bed this morning.

Kathy gives a pained, sympathetic smile. “I know it’s hard to go talk to someone. I see someone, he’s really great. It took me a few years to finally see someone, but it was worth it in the end.”

“You’ve been to a therapist?” You question, she didn’t look like she needed it.

Kathy shrugs, shoving on her knees as she stands with an easy sigh. “Yeah, I had a really bad girlfriend a couple years ago. Didn’t know she was tearing me down until she pushed me to my breaking point. I left her and a shelter made me see someone.” She walks to the kitchen, keeping her back to you as you twist on the cough to watch her.

“Uh, I’m making more coffee, want some?” She asks, barely looking over her shoulder at you.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You reply, glancing at your cold, empty mug on the coffee table.

She pulls down the coffee grounds and flips open the coffee pot. “I wasn’t really into the idea and I only had to see her once, the therapist, but after I got my own place I started having nightmares. I was getting depressed and lonely and I had no one to talk to. So I found another therapist. Basically turned my whole life around.”

Kathy slams the lid shut on the pot and slides the coffee tin back against the wall. She turns back to you, leaning her hip against the counter. Her smile is tired. “So you know, you don’t have to, but you should keep it in mind.”

*

You think about the things you’d talked about with Kathy on the cab ride home. Sure, you’d only got two good nights of sleep in the past two months since the…incident. But, nothing had happened. Not really. So you were fine.

….

Right?

You let your head slip from the back of your hand and it knocks quietly against the cold window. Mostly you were just tired. You rub at your face, trying to concentrate on _real_ life as the cab pulls up to the apartment building.

You hand your fare over to the driver and haul yourself out of the cab.

The lights are off when you get back to the apartment. Papyrus had been spending more time working or staying over at Mettatons or Grillby’s than he was at home. It was frustrating that he wasn’t here for his own brother, but the idea of confronting him was not only exhausting, it was useless. A few weeks ago after Sans hadn’t left his room for several days consecutively, Pap had sighed deeply and said, “Great, he’s in another mood.”

When you prodded him about it he shook his head and explained, “Sans just shuts-down sometimes. He’ll be back on his feet in a few weeks at most.”

That had seemed dark and unrealistic at the time, but now it made you hope that he was right. That Sans would be feeling better soon.

You stand in front of the fridge for a long time before deciding a salad sounds entirely unappetizing. The microwave burritos in the freezer however… at least sounded like it wouldn’t make you gag. Intuiting that Sans probably hasn’t eaten yet today, you add two more on the plate. You pop the preservative-loaded shredded beef and cheese burritos in the microwave and watch the plate spin.

When the timer dings you take the plate out and head upstairs. The light is on, to your surprise. Sans is laying on the bed watching TV with a nearly empty bottle of whiskey dangling in his fingers off the side of the mattress. He barely stirs when you come in.

“Hey,” he smiles weakly when you close the door, wiggling the plate in your hand. “That smells great.”

“Figured you haven’t eaten.”

“Liquid diet.” He groans as he sits up.

You roll your eyes and sit next to him on the bed, picking up one of the piping-hot burritos for yourself. It’s better than you expected. Sans grabs one, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek before taking a huge bite. He moans in approval, closing his eyes for a moment in appreciation.

For a few moments you both eat in silence. You think again about what Kathy said today. You glance at Sans as he takes another burrito, chewing thoughtfully. He wouldn’t be up for talking to a therapist…right?

He blinks slowly back at you after he notices you staring. His pupils lazily dart over your face. “What?” He asks quietly.

You blink and look away with a small shrug, shoving the rest of the burrito in your mouth. Your leg swings nervously and your heel knocks into Sans’ toybox under the bed-skirt. You ignore it and still your leg.

Cool digits brush the back of your arm but you don’t look back at him.

You swallow and the burrito goes down hard. Slowly you slide sideways until you collide gently with Sans. Silence stretches again, pained this time.

Sans slowly relaxes and sets the empty plate on the floor, taking a long draw from his bottle. You reach for the whiskey and he hands it over. After a short sip you finally speak. “So…Pap says you uh…get like this sometimes. And it…goes away after a few weeks. And this morning…you said you just burn out.”

A weary sigh is your response. You hear liquid slosh noisily against glass as he takes another gulp. “Yeah,” he eventually adds without contributing anything.

“Maybe…you—if you saw someone, someone like a doctor or something, they could help?” You chance a look up at him, pulling away from his cool bones.

His sockets are closed, a heavy resignation weighs on his shoulders. His eyes half-open and he drinks the last of the whiskey before dropping it to the floor right-side up. “All they could do is improve my mood about the inevitable doom of our timeline.”

You search for the perfect words to say but they don’t come. He’d only mentioned “the end” once before, and _that_ conversation ended with him in a mess.

He forces a shadow of a smile and rests his hand over yours. It quickly dies, followed by the dim light of his pupils and his head tilts forward. “I don’t know how…” he sighs again, his body sagging as if the air in his chest was keeping him fully upright. “I dunno how to fix this, or what happened. I dunno if I just lost touch with the other timelines before since I couldn’t see anything or…” He fades out. “I just don’t know anymore. Everything leads to death or nothingness.”

You flip your hand and slide your fingers between his visible phalanges, gripping his palm tightly. You sandwich your other hand on top of it and it’s enough to catch his attention. Enough to bring small pinpricks of light in his deep sockets.

“Let’s take a vacation.”

He blinks, his sockets furrowing in confusion. Sans shakes his head a little with a small laugh of rare surprise. “What?”

“Let’s get out of this apartment for a few days. We don’t even have to do anything. Let’s just rent a hotel room somewhere in town and order room service and be in a new place for a bit.” Which would give the maid a chance to _clean_ his damn room for a change, too.

His smile momentarily grows before fading with a shrug. “I dunno. We’d have to do some conventional travelling.”

“Not much. Maybe two hours, tops, in actual public.” You reign in your enthusiasm, not wanting to overwhelm him or guilt him into going.

“What about my old place Underground instead?” he asks after a long moment.

The suggestion catches you completely off-guard. He rarely wanted to share anything with you, especially his past. “Uh, y-yeah! That sounds like fun. I can finally see your home!”

A small but genuine smile tugs at his cheeks, tired and hopeful. “Pack a bag then, and we’ll go.”

You can’t help but rush to pack clothes into an overnight bag, not even bothering to fold them, or check if they match. You throw the strap over your shoulder and glance back at him, still sitting on the bed. Some of your enthusiasm dies and your shoulders sag.

He offers a tired grin and asks, “Ready, Kitten?”

You nod, stepping closer when he reaches his hand out for yours. “Aren’t you taking anything?”

Sans shakes his head, “Nah, I’ve still got some clothes there.” You try not to frown as you think of how musty they must smell at this point. You were just glad he was willing to do something for a change.

The familiar “pop” sounds in your ears and the bedroom swirls black around you.

When you open your eyes you’re standing ankle-deep in snow in front of a surprisingly quaint log cabin. It’s two-stories with a small balcony off on the right side. The wood is dark, like untreated wood will become after exposure to elements. Thick, huge icicles hang off the roof and one of the shutters over the window hangs loose. Paint peels back from the rest of the shutters and around the door frame. The door itself, a dark red, is the only part of the house that looks well-cared for.

In the corner of your vision you see what Sans had previously called your “stats”. Expecting it this time, it’s easier to ignore, especially after the shock of this place.

For a second you flounder for words as snow-flakes fall, quickly melting on your upturned face. “Wh-what?” You look around you, feet crunching as you turn on the spot. A small town surrounds you, with a library and what looks like a bar to the left. All the lights are off and the place looks long deserted. To the right you see a path that leads out of sight.

“Whe-where?”

*Sans seems entertained.

Oh right, that happened down here, too.

You look at Sans, smiling smugly as he stands comfortably watching your spaz-attack. Behind him you can see a sharp cliff with a thick pine forest below. “How?” You ask him, tilting your head back to the sky and seeing nothing but darkness. “How is there light? And _snow?_ Aren’t we underground, under a damn mountain?”

Sans chuckles. “It’s a mix of being so far underground we have weather, and all the magic that lives here. All of us were down here for so long our magic changed the very soil, air, and creatures.”

You try to suppress a shiver when the bitter wind blows, whipping snow around your face. “So you guys can change the surface too?”

He shrugs and gestures to the cabin before walking up to it. You follow him closely, pressing again, “But how is there light? There aren’t any lights on in town.” He opens the door, giving it a shove with his shoulder when it sticks.

“It just stays like that. Not sure why.”

You frown at that unsatisfying answer and follow him inside, where it’s dark.

*Like nature intended.

For a moment you wonder what causes the strange descriptive, sometimes mind-reading level of insight text to appear.

*…

*That’s not a good line of thought to follow.

Oooookaaay… You decide to not think about the INCREDIBLY HELPFUL text as anything but incredibly helpful from now on.

*Good.

He hits a light switch and you can’t help but smile. The layout was incredibly similar to his apartment with Papyrus. An open living room plan with the kitchen to the right and a stairwell to the left with an open landing. If you had to guess, Papyrus’ room was probably on the left and Sans’ would be to the right. The only difference would be the TV here is where the guest bathroom is at the apartment and the color scheme was much more…gothic.

Looks like they’d decided to dry-wall over the logs. The carpet is a rich purple, the walls a deep red and the intricate crown molding and the ceiling are dark gray. An odd choice, but somehow it doesn’t clash. The railing at the stairs and on the landing look like cast iron, it twists elegantly on the bannister. The support bars remind you of spiked fence posts, since they come to a sharp point underneath the bannister. Paintings of jagged bones and a few skulls adorn the walls, candles rest unburned on the coffee table. Everything together reminds you of a vampires lair.

To your surprise it doesn’t smell musty and everything is spotless.

When you stop gaping you realize Sans is staring at you with a smirk. “What d’ya think?” He rumbles.

“I see why you like my wardrobe.”

He snorts. “I gotta say, the first time I saw one of the humans BDSM bars, it was like I was home. I didn’t think it would really look like that.”

“I guess you guys come back here a lot, it still looks lived-in.”

“Yeah,” he starts, leading you to the stairs. “Pap comes here sometimes. But he’s staying at the Castle or at Mettaton’s lately since that’s closer to work.”

“How far is the castle from here?” You ask, since it’s the only place you’ve been underground.

Sans leads you to the second bedroom, the one on the right, and you smile, knowing you guessed correctly where he stayed. “Maybe a week walking, about an hour or so by boat then elevator.”

You pause for a half-second, making a face. “Boat? Also, holy shit the undergrounds huge. I know Mount Ebott is big, but jeeze.”

He chuckles again and you’re already glad you thought of a vacation, this was the most he’d laughed in months. “It’s another magic thing. We’ve always had enough space for everyone,” he holds open his bedroom door for you and again, you’re surprised to see its clean. Sure, there’s socks on the floor but at least his bed is made and it smells fresh. It has the same purple carpet and red walls as the main room.

You see a bathroom off to the left, just like his apartment. The similarities were starting to get weird.

“And out that window you can see the river.” He points to the window over his bed that you hadn’t noticed until now. You drop your bag on his bed and look outside. A placid river flows about a hundred yards away from the cabin. You can see more houses around town, much smaller and more plain than the skeletons cabin.

*It really is a peaceful place.

“It’s generally thought that the space under the mountain is bigger than it realistically should be. Once we all got topside we realized it was smaller than we expected. I mean, there’s over a thousand miles of space between the start of the ruins and the back of the castle where you came in a while ago. No ones sure how far the top of the mountain is under here, either…” He fades out, sockets puckering in thought.

You glance around his room again, thinking this suited him better than the white walls of his apartment. Suddenly you remember your “soul” had appeared last time you were underground and you jump to pull back your collar to look down your shirt.

Your shoulders slump a little when you realize it wasn’t there.

Sans laughs, not unkindly. “It was probably just your body’s reaction to the concentrated magic. The barrier that trapped us down here is still pretty strong, and you passed right through it when you came down the first time. It’s part of why so many of us come back pretty regularly. Its…kind of nice to be around the magic again. Most just stay in the hotel at New Home for a few days though, no one comes this far anymore. Except Riverperson. I don’t think they ever left, now that I think about it.” He adds the last few sentences quietly, thinking out loud.

You let go of your shirt as you make a small connection. You decide to save it for later in case you’re wrong and ask something less connected to that train of thought.

*You get the feeling that you’re more correct than you know.

“So, if I’m around the magic, will I absorb it too? And maybe see my soul again?”

Sans takes your bag and moves it to the dresser-top. “Why are you so fascinated with that?”

“I’m sure it seems boring, or in your case embarrassing, but humans can’t do that. We don’t have some….tangible representation of ourselves like that. We’re all pretty damn boring.”

His skull snaps back to you and again, you note the surprise on his features. “Boring? No way are you guys boring.”

You scoff. “Yeah, right. Compared to beings made of fucking _magic_ we’re incredibly boring. We’re all squishy and weak and breakable.”

Sans blinks hard and shakes his head. “What are you talking about? Humans are _way_ stronger than monsters. Why do you think we lost the damn war?”

You shrug. “Sheer numbers…?”

He closes his eyes for a long moment. “You guys are fucking strong.” He steps closer and touches the center of your chest. Magic sparks under his fingertip and your soul shines bright under your shirt. “This was how we leveled the playing field. Your souls are always protected, lying under your flesh and bones, flowing through your veins.”

You look up from your soul and search his furrowed sockets. “Your bodies are made of earth and minerals, of stardust. The only spark of magic you have is what connects your emotions and thoughts to your flesh, intangible to you. Our entire being is made of that connection, fragile and fleeting. Unsustainable without our will to live and so easily shattered.”

Your lips slowly part in awe and he swallows anxiously, looking away from your unyielding eyes.

“While we can manipulate ‘magic’ because there is nothing physically separating our souls from reality, we can literally _touch_ it with our bare hands. And while it can grant us the ability to do things beyond human reach, your kind can easily destroy us because your soul doesn’t take damage when you fight. By forcing your soul to show, we actually stand a chance against you.” He glances back at you. “Do you understand?”

It takes a few long moments to process what he told you. “Yeah…yeah I think I get it. So,” you glance down at your shining soul, “even though I could actually touch my soul right now, because I’m human I can’t do anything with the magic there.”

Sans nods. “The very thing that makes you strong can also destroy you. Monsters don’t get sick, we either live or die. That’s it. We can be injured, but good sleep or enough food and we heal immediately. Or uh,” he glances sideways, the barest blush tinting his cheekbones, “feeling loved will heal us, too. But good luck finding a monster who will admit to that one.”

You laugh at that, the serious tone of the conversation suddenly broken. “Speaking of…” You crack a smile up at him and walk your fingers around his waist, pulling him into a hug.

He sighs, relenting finally as he wraps his arms around you. You smile into his chest as he rests his chin on your head and your heart flutters. “Yeah, okay. Hugs are nice.” He grumbles as he pulls you in tighter.

“Whatever, grumpy pants, you know you love it.”

He laughs and you beam at the sound rumbling against his ribs. You know he probably isn’t 100% just yet, and maybe he won’t ever be, but for now it’s just nice to have him in a better mood.

After an unexpectedly long hug, he slowly leans back. You look up at him and notice the easy smile still lingering on his face. “So, what should we do first for our vacation?”

“Hm, how about I show you around? The town isn’t much to look at, but there’s a lot to see besides that.”

“I’d like that. But I need a coat.”

He shrugs, “I’ve got some sweaters,” he breaks the embrace and walks to the dresser, pulls open a drawer and grabs a blood-red turtleneck. He tosses it lightly and you catch it. “This fits you?” You ask incredulously at the massive sweater. Sans was a big guy but he wasn’t a giant. This sweater hangs to your knees and the sleeves droop nearly to the floor.

“I like wiggle-room.” He replies simply.

You chuckle and pull the sweater on, shoving up as much of the sleeves as you can. “Well, at least I won’t be cold.” You remark as Sans leads you back outside.

*

Sans takes you on a slow stroll through the snow, first through the town called Snowdin and naming the families that lived in each (now abandoned) house. You ask about Riverperson when you pause at the steadily flowing river. He tells you they don’t show up unless you need a ride. You pass the massive ice-block maker, slowly churning ice onto a slide and into the river. Sans tells you it’s to cool The Core in the capital, the power plant for the underground.

You wander a little through the forest after he shows you the royal guards’ patrol post, where he said he spent most of his time sleeping.

You believe it.

You crane your head back to look up at the massive trees, breath fogging around your face as you frown. You turn to ask Sans why the bark has been pulled from the trees nearly to the tops and a burst of cold explodes on your face.

In an extreme state of disbelief, you wipe the snowball from your face and realize Sans isn’t there to tell off. “Oh, I see how it is. _Real_ mature, throw a snowball and hide!” You yell as you turn, looking for him.

Another snowball slams into the back of your head, knocking you a little off-balance. A loud laugh echoes and you can’t help but smile as you stand upright. “Oh yeah? Well, do something about it, sweet-cheeks!”

You turn again and this time manage to duck away from the third snowball. Sans’ black clothes manage to blend into the shadows of the forest, you only see a flicker of him before another snowball flies. You quickly throw the one you’d packed hard for better aim and laugh in triumph when it hits his chest as he steps around a tree to throw another.

He beams, lobbing the one he holds halfheartedly. It lands at your feet and you toss the one hidden under the extra long sleeves of his sweater. Nailing him expertly in the face. You cackle as snow piles around his sockets and a deep frown is visible beneath them.

Sans shakes the snow from his eyes and a mischievous grin splits his skull. “Oh, you’re going down!”

You try to hold back your laughter as you run through the trees, but you can’t, and you don’t mind when several more snowballs pelt your back. You dodge most of them anyway. A few times you pause to scoop enough snow to pack into a ball before lobbing them back at Sans. He dodges nearly all of them.

The last one you throw nails him right in the gut and you slide in the snow when you try to change direction too quickly, worried you’d hurt him.

Before you can even throw your hands up to defend your face from the fall, you’re in Sans’ arms. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You ask, face flushed from the cold. He smiles and pulls you upright. “No, of course not. It’s just snow.”

Your heart hammers from the excitement of the brief fight. That, coupled with how intensely he is staring at you right now, makes your mind race to much naughtier places. Was it your imagination, or were his pupils sparking red?

He surprises you with a kiss. You pull him closer and a sound catches in his throat. His hands grip you tighter and the kiss deepens. Heat rushes to your core and for a moment you wonder if this is just too good to be true.

He pulls back with a smile before he kisses you again, stealing your breath. He slowly sinks to the ground, tugging you with him with his kiss. You slide into his lap and he shifts his weight, shoving you to the snow on your back.

Sans’ fingers play over the top of your jeans, biting hungrily down your neck as he tugs the denim down your thighs. He shoves his face into the wide collar of the sweater and bites the crook of your neck, growling at the moan that flutters from your lips. After struggling with your panties Sans pulls back and tears them off, making you jump at the sudden pinch and chafe.

You have half a second to feel the cold against your exposed nethers and thighs before he’s on top of you again. Your eyes roll when he hilts completely, snow melts against your scalp as your head tilts to follow your eyes. He leans forward, an arm snaking under your shoulders as he pumps himself into you.

The denim bites into your skin as he pushes against you, it doesn’t bother you. In fact, you give a pretty vocal groan of disapproval when he suddenly shoves back with an angry snarl. Your hands want to reach and pull him back down but the red haze clinging to his sockets stops you. Instead you want to ask if he’s okay.

With a guttural sound he tears the inseam of your jeans, freeing your legs and completely ruining yet another article of clothing.

He was getting pretty bad at that.

He falls over you again, this time pressing fully against you as he finds a rhythm. Your hands grip his coat when he tears at the sweater with this teeth, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Your muscles shudder and you cry out, gripping him tightly as he pounds harder. With a hot snarl against your ear he dislodges your grip and shoves your arms to the snow.

You cry out again, back arching as he picks up the pace. He licks blood from his teeth with an arrogant smirk as he rolls his hips, hitting all the right angles and drawing a broken moan from you. His grip tightens as he shoves your hands over your head and he gives a pleasured sigh that fogs around his skull.

He takes both of your wrists in one hand and tugs hard at the tear in the sweater with the other, growling again. You try to ask what he’s so mad about but he slams into you _hard_ several times, until you’re crying-out with each thrust and almost forget who you are, let alone what you were going to ask. There’s more tearing while your eyes stare back at nothing, and you take a long, shuddering gasp when teeth rake across the top of your breast.

“Ah! Oh, God!” You scream, muscles trembling again when his teeth bite down, just this side of breaking skin. He moans against you, his free hand cupping your ass to bring it closer to him. “H-ha-harder!” you beg as his tongue teases your nipple.

When he doesn’t oblige, you whimper pathetically, tugging uselessly against his grip on your wrists. Your toes fidget and you start to wiggle, desperate for him to be rough.

He kisses up your neck, his pace slowing as you continue wordlessly urging him to do more. “ _Saaans,_ please!” You whine as he wetly licks the sensitive bite from earlier.

“Not…yet.” He pants between heavy breaths.

You can’t bite back the, “ _Whhhy?_ ”

“N-nearly…th-there!” He grunts and even realizing what he means doesn’t stop the pitiful, needy sound you make. “Please!” you beg again, rolling your hips into him and gripping him tight with your thighs.

“Nnngh!” he ducks his face into your neck and you feel his body tremble above you. Your hands flex and clench, every second far too long to wait. His breath quickens and his hips move arrhythmically, harshly. You’re nearing the edge, tainted only by his refusal to just bite you already!

A yell begins to build in the back of his throat and his body leans hard into yours as he continues to slam home, bringing a moan of imperfect pleasure from your lips. Just when disappointment begins to bloom his tongue searches over your breast before he bites down and worries the flesh. Your head snaps back with a scream and you lose yourself in bliss.

His weight is nearly too much and not enough as he raggedly catches his breath and your body pulses pleasantly. You hum happily, kissing the top of his skull as your nerves sing.

You’re glad for the oversized sweater now, since the length keeps most of you dry. Or maybe your back was just numb from the cold. Probably the latter. Only pieces of you feel cold, like the back of your head, your ass, and your nose.

Sans sits up with a wince, then a groan as he stretches his arm. The haze around his eyes you’d noticed earlier is now gone. He pauses half-way up and his pupils travel quite hungrily over you, he even licks his lips. “Mm, kitten, you look positively _delicious_.”

You manage a laugh and roll your eyes, giving a little squeak when you feel his dick twitch back to life inside you. You laugh again, “Really? After all that?”

“Like I said,” he smiles again. “Delicious.”

“Well, you ruined my clothes. _Again_.”

He shrugs, easily sliding out of you and pulling his still intact gym shorts over his junk. With a crooked smirk he offers his hand to help you up and with a soft “pop” you’re back in his room in the cabin.

“That’s certainly easier than walking home.” You remark, still sitting. Sans chuckles, helping you with your shoes while you disentangle yourself from the sweater. It falls with a wet “splat” to his floor and you start on your ruined t-shirt and bra next.

Before you get out of the bra you notice Sans’ stare. Wisps of red are clinging to his sockets again. “What’s up with that?” You ask, getting free of the also ruined bra. You notice he didn’t break the skin on your breast, but he certainly left one hell of a hickey.

“I…I’ll tell you after we shower, you must be freezing.”

You narrow your eyes suspiciously as the haze vanishes in one hard blink, but as the feeling begins to return on your back, you have to admit you’re pretty cold. “Yeah, I’m pretty…chilled to the bone.” You say with a wiggle of your eyebrows.

“Oh jeeze, that’s awful.” He says with a roll of his pupils as he hauls you upright, laughing. A shiver darts down your spine and he ushers you to the bathroom. Much smaller and less modern than his other one. With a narrow mirror and no medicine cabinet.

“This thing you’re waiting to tell me—”

“Ah! Not until you’re warm again.” He interrupts.

You roll your eyes and oblige, beginning to feel the after-effects of such rough sex on a frozen forest floor. Nothing a nice long shower can’t fix...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's probably typos and maybe some other minor mistakes, and if there are, I apologize. I'm pretty tired right now, but I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer for me to be fully awake and edit it. I'll probably go over it later today or tomorrow to fix anything I missed. :)


	16. Animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some switching perspective in this one

Sans kneads his hands up your back, rolling his knuckles back down. You sigh, swaying under his touch in the cramped shower. His newer shower had much more space, but this wasn’t bad at all. His fingers trail down your spine, over your hips and pull you close.

You chuckle, glancing back at him with a smirk as you feel his erection press into your back. “You’re certainly in a better mood.” You breathe as his hand slides lower between your legs. Your head lolls back against his chest as his fingers expertly tease over your clit.

He rumbles in approval when your arm reaches back, grabbing at him for support. A soft moan escapes and you close your eyes. You’d missed moments like this the past few weeks.

“You up for something new?” He asks.

You laugh softly, “Hm, I think I know where you’re going. And not without lube.” You pat his face before turning to kiss him. He reaches behind you to turn off the shower, in a hurry to get back in the bedroom. He tugs you by the arm, not pausing to dry off.

Water still cascades down your skin when he rips the bedsheets back. You laugh again, “Where’s the fire?”

He turns and pulls you into a breath-stealing kiss, more passionate than the one in the forest. “Need you,” he pants, his hands roaming over your skin. Another realization hits you when you look back up into his sockets, misting over again with red.

“Oh!” Your eyebrows rise in understanding. “You’re in heat, aren’t you?”

He growls with irritation and looks away, “Yes. Now, please, bed.” He replies through gritted teeth. He tugs at you again, pulling you toward the bed. You can’t help the smug grin on your face, you do manage to hold back the laughter though. You’d been wondering what he would do for this, since you hadn’t seen him in a heat yet.

After doing more research online a few months ago, you found out some monsters could put off their heats indefinitely. Like the boss monsters, the ones stronger than average. The trade off seemed to be the longer they waited, the more likely the kids they conceived during a heat were to live. However, fighting their nature for longer meant they had a more difficult to control sex-drive when they couldn’t hold it back anymore.

For a moment you wonder if Sans could be a boss monster...

He grabs a bottle of lube and sits on the edge of the mattress. You don’t resist as he turns you around and guides your legs to straddle his lap; your knees on either side of his hips.

“Interesting position.” You comment, looking over your shoulder as he hastily coats his dick in lube. His pupils roll up to you and a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. Sans’ expression is…intense. His hands grab your hips and his lube-slick cock presses between your cheeks. The sensation surprises you, it’s been a while since your last experience with anal.

You chew your bottom lip as he eases into you, his dick hard enough to push through that tense circle with little resistance. Once completely hilted, he holds you firmly there. His fingers dig into your skin before he slowly relaxes. In the still moment, you can feel his pulse throbbing inside you.

With a shaky breath his hands urge you to move and you let him guide the pace, head rolling back with a moan. After a few moments his hands leave your hips and he growls again in frustration. He roughly reaches for your breasts and harshly massages them. You cry out and his breath catches.

“Ah! Lo-louder!” He tells you, moving to twist your nipples next. You moan brokenly, hips faltering. “No, no keep going.” You pick the rhythm back up and he shifts a hand lower, easily finding your clit. You let your head roll back as you moan again, trying to be louder than normal for him. You’re rewarded with a shuddering whimper from him that makes your blood race.

A sudden sound catches your attention, an obnoxiously loud knocking from downstairs. It was hard enough to rattle the door.

Struggling to catch your breath, you pause. “Wh-who’s—?” You don’t get to finish your question, Sans throws you sideways on the bed. His hand grabs the back of your neck and pins you, your face turned to the side. He grabs your hip and pulls your ass higher, grunting as he thrusts into you. “Hands,” he pants, “use…your hands.”

He takes his hand off your neck and you wiggle your hands south, easily sliding a few fingers into the slick entrance. Your other hand flicks your sensitive clit and the effect is instant. Sans moans at the sound you make, slapping your ass hard enough to make you shortly scream. He slaps you again, harder than before and you cry in pain before the sound dissolves into an unhinged moan. His grip hauls your ass higher, to a better angle, and he holds you there when you flinch away from the next hit.

“Stay put.” He snarls, spanking you again. Your eyes roll at the flood of endorphins that chases another slap. “Keep those hands working,” he orders. Drool soaks the sheet beneath your face and you struggle to keep your fingers moving. It was hard, so hard, to think like this.

He gives an unexpected smack to your untouched cheek, followed quickly by two more. Again, he holds you fast to him when you flinch away. Your hands instinctively clutch the bed, pulling you away from him. Before you can fix the mistake he laughs arrogantly and slows to a stop, “I told you to stay put.”

You breathe hard, gasping and falling flat to the mattress when he pulls away from you. You watch as he stands, pulls a length of rope from his nightstand and returns to stand at the footboard, looming over you. He takes your wrists and begins looping the rope around them, tying them securely, before threading it through the metal bars of the footboard.

Your arms over your head hide most of your vision but you feel him sit beside you on the bed. “C’mon, lets flip you over.” He gently helps you roll to your back and you feel like you’ve finally caught your breath. “Not too tight, right?” He asks, tugging lightly on the rope binding your wrists.

You shake your head, a little dazed. “No, it’s fine.” You rasp. He smirks deviously. “Wait here,” he chuckles at his bad joke as he wanders to the bathroom. He returns with a glass of water and makes you take several gulps before he continues, grabbing more rope.

He licks his teeth before he threads the rope carefully around your calf and thigh, binding your right leg first. Then he snakes the rope underneath you, bending your leg toward you and tying an intricate knot on either side of your waist before binding your left leg in the same fashion. When he’s finished you’re tied, nearly immobile, with your legs spread wide and your knees nearly touching your breasts.

For a long moment he admires the sight, running his fingertips from your ankles to the inside of your thighs. The thin haze has never left his sockets. His eyes narrow with lust and he moves to slide between your legs.

The same loud knocking from before starts again, this time making you jump, jerking you out of sub-space. Sans starts to ignore it, hand reaching for you, when an unfamiliar voice calls, “SANS! GET OUT HERE!”

“Um…maybe you should answer it?” You question with a grimace.

“I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW, YOU LAZY ASSHOLE!”

He growls angrily before shaking it off, smiling down at you. “No, she can wait.” He moves closer, kissing you as he gingerly guides his dick against that ridged circle.

“I WILL BURN THIS HOUSE DOWN IF YOU DON’T GET OUT HERE!” The pounding doesn’t stop this time and Sans snarls viciously, shoving away from you. He takes several furious steps, pauses, steps back and snaps his fingers. The ropes binding you suddenly unravel and your legs fall unceremoniously to the bed in a heap of rope.

He’s gone before you can tell him to grab pants.

*

The pounding at the door is incessant, shaking the top board of the door frame loose. Sans struggles to hold back the rage whispering for him to blast the front of the house away so he can get back to the incredibly sexy, kinky, bombshell in his bed.

The first time he’d had a heat with _anyone_ he cared about in years and this bitch… “WHAT THE _FUCK_ DO YOU WANT?!” Sans yells as he yanks open the front door, sockets blazing. Hot magic sparks at his twitching fingertips.

Toriel’s paws snap back to her sides. She glares wickedly back at his rude outburst, but yelps in surprise when she realizes he’s not only naked, but totally erect. And the magic clinging to his eyes wasn’t only out of anger.

She quickly recovers, concentrating intensely on his eyes. “It certainly took you long enough!” The queen shoots back.

“Kind of in the middle of something!” He snaps, sockets raised in anger. “What the _fuck_ do you want?” He repeats, not apologizing for or moving to cover his nakedness.

“Yes, well, I um, wouldn’t normally uh,” she flounders, suddenly reminded of her nearly three years of celibacy.

“Spit it out!” He snaps, eyes sparking.

“Frisk is gone!” She blurts, paws clenching into fists.

Sans rolls his eyes, his lethal grip on the door slacking and falling to rest on the door knob. “That little shit runs off all the time, you know how she is. Wrangle your kid yourself.” He moves to slam the door but Toriel stops him with a flaming paw flat on the metal.

“Asriel went with her, they’ve been gone for nearly three days. You _will_ help me find them.”

He narrows his eyes. “That flower ain’t your son anymore.”

“I know you can find them, you of all others.” She continues, ignore his cutting remark.

He growls, a low rumble of frustration in his chest. “You realize I can’t ‘see’ shit like this?” He gestures angrily at his eyes.

“I’m-I’m well aware of that. I did not know. Papyrus just said you were here.”

Sans closes his eyes and pinches the invisible brow of his nose, wondering how the hell his brother knew where he was. He hadn’t even been gone a full day. “Okay, you know what, come in. I’m sure you’ve been to Alphys, she’s got all my equipment now. Maybe together we can figure something out. We can go to the lab.” His hand falls from his face and most of the haze is gone. “Just, just let me take her home first.”

He turns from the open door and makes his way up the stairs, only looking up when he hears a soft, “Oh,” from the landing.

His kitten stands there, hastily clothed. The tank-top she’d packed dips low enough to show the visible hickey on her breast and the still-open bite on her neck. Her lips are swollen and soft bruises are beginning to show at her wrists. The fact she threw on sweatpants that cover the rest of her is nearly criminal to Sans.

Sans notices something strange in her eyes after her flash of recognition toward the queen. Was that… scorn? Did-did she figure out that Toriel was his ex? He didn’t think that _names_ had been exchanged when she’d held his soul.

“Hello,” she says icily. The tone sends a shiver up Sans’ spine. Ooh, he liked seeing her like this. And that was more than just anger at being interrupted.

That was anger at being interrupted by an ex-lover.

“Human,” Toriel replies, shutting the door with a swipe of her paw and not breaking eye-contact. Clearly stating she wasn’t leaving.

“I have a name.” Temperance says with a cut of her eyes.

“Yes, well, I’d rather not have the taste of that on my tongue.” Toriel says with a small smirk. “I’m not a fan of a excrement, you see.”

She laughs. “Wow lady, that’s the best you got?” Sans can feel the tension in the air thicken as her smile quickly dies and a light sparkles in her eyes. “Because let me tell you—“

He shakes off the distracting swell of emotions in his chest and continues up the stairs, interrupting her. “I hate to do this, but c’mon, kitten.” He reaches for the bend of her elbow and gently leads her back to the bedroom. She resists, staring hard back at the queen below with gritted teeth.

“No,” she easily breaks Sans’ light grip and points accusingly at Toriel. “Let me tell you something, you heartless cow—”

“I’m a goat,” she interjects with amusement.

“Heartless COW! I hope you _hate_ every fucking second of your pathetic sham of a marriage. And-!”

“Oh child, I do. I absolutely loathe my husband.” She says with a sickly-sweet tone. “I am a terrible monster, wife and mother, and I will never know true intimacy again such as I had with your lover.” Toriel’s words spill quickly and flatly. “Oh stop, stop, you wound me.” She adds with one paw over her heart and the other on her forehead, dramatically.

“No? You wish to continue the insults?” She pretends to compose herself, sniffling loudly and fluttering her eyes as if she were holding back tears. “Very well, I am an emotionless, manipulative cunt with no hope of ever finding a meaningful existence in this lifetime.” She adds dryly.

“Are we finished? That about sum up your quarrel with me? Good.” Toriel says shortly. “Now go fuck your boyfriend so he can find my children.” She says with a dismissive wave of her paw and turns away.

For a second she stands on the landing, honestly lost for words. Sans takes her hand and pulls her back into the bedroom where she still struggles to recover.

“That-that wasn’t how I saw that playing out.” She finally admits.

Sans half-chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh…yeah, she’s uh…” He shrugs. “No one hates Toriel more than Toriel.”

She snorts.

“Look, as pissed as I am about it, I do need to find the kids. They’re not…” He frowns, struggling for the right words. “Only bad things can come from them missing.”

“So her kids really are missing?” she asks, worry slipping into her voice.

“Yeah, but trust me, they aren’t the ones in danger.” He closes his eyes with a shake of his head at the confusion on her face. “Its too hard to explain.”

She heaves a sigh and sits hard on the bed in disappointment. “So much for a vacation.” She murmurs. “And why did you answer the door naked?” She blurts with a laugh.

He feels a rare moment of embarrassment, “Well, I thought it would make her leave.”

Her smile fades and she flops back on the bed with a groan. “So you’re going to run off in the middle of sex to help your ex?”

“Well, there’s one hang-up with that.”

She lifts her head to look at him as he tugs lightly at her waistband. “Things get pretty hazy, future-sight wise, when I’m in heat. Hard to focus.”

“So, when she said to fuck you she-“

“Was being serious, yes.” He finishes, pulling her sweatpants down further.

“Really? With her downstairs?”

Sans quirks a socket. “You can’t seriously tell me you don’t want to rub our great sex-life in her face? I saw how pissed you were.”

She shrugs, looking away and slowly frowning. “I dunno. Lost kids seem more important, ‘specially since you said they’d cause trouble.”

“But, babe, I can’t _look_ without getting this out of my system. Shit, I probably won’t make it outside without needing to come back. Once this starts, I can’t make it go away.” His hands knead against her thighs and he absently chews his bottom lip. “Are you saying you’re seriously not in the mood?”

“No…but how long until this goes away?” She asks, giving a questioning smirk and gesturing to his face. He doesn’t answer, still pulling on her sweatpants. Realizing she didn’t put on panties completely blanks his mind.

“He-hey! Sans?” She snaps her fingers and he focuses on her again. “Huh?” He asks stupidly, inching closer to the bed, his pupils dart down to her crotch and his heart quickens.

“Sans!” She grabs his face to keep his attention this time but can’t stop from smiling. He blinks dumbly at her. “How long till this goes away?”

His pupils search her face for a long moment before he can talk again. “U-uh, couple hours?

Her eyebrows rise. “Uh uh, no way. We’re not having a tantric sex marathon while there’s missing kids, Sans.”

Sans actually whines, fingers wrapping tightly around her pants. “I-I don’t thi-think you understand.” His breathing quickens. “I can’t rea-ally stop myself on-once it gets built-up li-like this.” Hadn’t he _just_ explained that? He pushes through her hands, nuzzling into her neck. “And I _really_ want y-you to want it, too.” His hands slip to the bed, leaning into her.

She feels magic like pins and needles against her skin. “They’re safe?” She asks weakly.

“Scheming. But alive.”

“Okay.” She relents.

Relief surges through him and he feels the suppressed magic from earlier surge up so intensely she has to repeat herself several times before he hears her. “…thes! Sans!” She’s laughing as she pushes him back. “My clothes, love, let me take them off. I’m running out of things to wear.”

He blinks mutely at her as she pulls her tank top off, his heart races again when this exposes her bare breasts. She easily prods him back with a foot when he leans closer. He has trouble understanding why as she kicks her pants off but he forgets his confusion when she spreads her legs slightly and beckons him.

Sans falls to the mattress, mouth latching over her core. The sound she makes, surprise and pleasure, encourages him. He licks at her in earnest, lapping at every wet inch; fingers digging into her trembling thighs to keep her secured. He’s careful of his sharp teeth in such a sensitive place, not once brushing them against skin, even when she twitches and bucks beneath him. He knows just where to circle and roll his tongue to make her scream… Hands grip his skull and when he looks up her face is scrunched in bliss.

He has the urge to kiss those lips, bite the swell of flesh at her neck and taste the blood that flows underneath.

When he moves to do just that, she protests, “No! No, no, no! Please, don’t stop. Don’t burn a girl twice in a row.” It doesn’t take much to encourage him back to the ardent focus he had a moment ago. Just flicking his eyes back down is enough to forget about her supple neck. She cries out, head snapping back suddenly. He growls in approval when her body tenses and spasms, slowing the circle of his tongue.

A long shuddering moan escapes her, she tries to hold back the scream bubbling up. Suddenly remembering the company they had downstairs, she feels a surge of stage-fright and can’t let herself go.

Her hands fall from his skull and her breasts heave, shining with sweat. His focus shifts and he starts to crawl on top of her, making a bee-line for her chest. “…ns, hey, condom time, love.” She takes his chin and tilts it up to look at her.

He blinks hard through the fog, slowly frowning when he understands. Magic dances at the edge of his brain, tantalizing and tempting. He shakes it back, “You...you’ve got birth control, though.”

She rolls her eyes and smiles patiently. “And you stuck your dick in my ass and haven’t washed it yet.”

“Lube,” he reaches for the bottle on the nightstand and she laughs. He’s thinking a little more clearly through the magic, not without a concentrated effort though. “No, I had a plan earlier and it got fucked up.”

“Full sentences now, good job.”

“Probably not for long.” He admits.

“Mm, you gonna tie me up again?” She asks hopefully.

“Better,” he smirks as he coats his dick again with lube. “Can also shorten this. You okay with magic?” It was getting harder to think, he’d been too long already without cumming. His magic-powered sex drive was going to take over soon.

Her eyes dance. “Oh yeah.”

“I fucking love you.” He blurts before kissing her. The bottle is lost in the sheets but he has no trouble slipping inside. He moans shakily into her mouth at the circle of pressure around his cock. He trails a hand down her chest and lets a small burst of magic bring her soul to life. She inhales sharply through her nose, tongue still tangled with his. When he caresses it, letting magic freely flow into her she breaks the kiss with a huge gasp.

Her nails rake down his arms as he guides magic to settle in her core. Now that it was in her, he wouldn’t have to focus on it to make it enjoyable. Now it would do what she wanted it to, at least until it faded in a few days.

Vague recollections crowd at the edge of his awareness. An echo of a tender moan, shadows of fingertips brushing his skin.

Sans shakes them away, letting his excess magic drape his mind again. He was going to enjoy this, damnit. He’d been waiting, letting his need brew and build until he had a blank canvas again. And by God, he was going to have a surprising, unexpected, _incredible_ _fucking_ experience for a change!

A long, loud moan rips any distractions from him. Beneath him, she’s unable to keep still, slowly moving and struggling to find something decent to wrap her hands around. “Aah…oohh my God… Wh-what…nnngh…what _is_ this?” She manages to open her eyes for a moment before he starts thrusting again; her eyes roll back and another low moan escapes her.

He chews his bottom lip, watching her oh-so-slowly writhe with a lecherous grin. “Magic. Does what you want.” He feels himself getting closer to the edge and his rhythm falters, he gives a soft moan. “Nnghaa, does-does what you like.” He adds, leaning harder into her.

She cries out, back arching suddenly before falling back to the bed. “I-I really wanna hurt you,” the words tumble before he thinks about what he says. “The hurt you like,” he amends through gritted teeth, ducking his head against her chest as he tries _desperately_ not to finish yet.

“Yes, yes. Yes, please.” She breathes. “Sans, please, please do it. Like before? Fr-from behind? _Please_.”

It takes just about every ounce of willpower he owns to pull-out of her without climaxing first. He can’t help but groan in trembling frustration as disappointment, physical, mental, and magical bitterness erupts in his chest.

She’s panting when he sits up, whimpering as the magic within continues working her higher. Angrily he reaches for the rope still tangled in the footboard behind them and lashes it into a thick bind around her wrists. “Gonna make sure you can’t run this time, Kitten.” He growls, putting her trapped wrists flat on her stomach before flipping her face-down.

He takes the lead from the rope and securely ties it to the footboard. Now her arms were tied under her body. It would keep her from squirming away while he fucked her. The only way her body would move is back. Against him.

“That’s more like it,” he rumbles before pulling her ass into the air. She gives another whimper when he grips her cheeks hard, digging his fingers in. “Caramel, like al-always?” He asks, voice breaking as he guides himself back in.

“Yup.” She replies shortly.

He burns that word into his mind, that was when he needed to stop.

He closes his eyes, sighing through his teeth when he’s skin-to-skin with her again. Just as he raises a hand to slap that lovely cheek, a warm, tingling sensation caresses his dick. His body instantly recognizes magic and he comes undone.

She had the idle thought that she wanted Sans to feel what she was feeling, with the magic coiled so tightly around her privates. If she knew this would be his reaction, she would’ve had the thought sooner.

Sans falls against her, one hand gives a vicious slap to her outer cheek, his fingers rake immediately over the instant welts. She screams closed-mouth in surprised pain before his other snakes up to grip her breast, massaging it. The endorphin rush sends tingles down her spine and she moans, turning her face into the bed when he slaps her again.

Her toes point and flex, her arms tug reflexively at the rope and another scream erupts with a third slap. She balls her fists, biting the blanket; and relaxes when the next wave of pleasure crashes.

Sans leans harder into her back, his thrusts deeper. He dips his spanking hand between her legs, managing to wiggle his fingers into her dripping warmth. Her head jerks back, dropping the blanket from her teeth as he feels the familiar caress of magic twisting around his fingers. He drags his other hand down her ribs as he strokes against her walls.

She trembles against him, muscles straining, urging them both to the end. His movements begin to jerk, but just before they hit the peak together, he slaps her untouched cheek. She screams, pelvic muscles tightening and his face screws up as he thrusts into her harshly.

She screams wordlessly again and he cries out her name, his free hand digging hard into her hip as he finally orgasms in a flood of magic. She sobs with pleasure as the combined magic tips her _way_ over the edge.

They fall flat to the bed, slightly sliding backwards. After far more effort than he expected, Sans rolls off of her so he doesn’t smother her. He lays on his back breathing hard, hands stinging from the earlier impacts, cock finally going flaccid.

He rolls his gaze to his Kitten who blinks placidly at him, a soft, stupid grin on her face.

He can’t help but laugh breathlessly.

“I…fucking love you, too.” She breathes.

He blinks, nearly forgetting his outburst earlier. With a smile he leans forward and plants a kiss on her forehead. At the edges of his awareness he can feel echoes of other instances. He closes his eyes against her skin and sighs, a resigned defeat beginning to fill him.

Usually his bad lone-wolf act let him balance the blinding magic of heats and maintain a normal life if he took as long as possible to burn off the nature-driven urge to connect magically with someone else. With her around though…there was no way he could keep himself from falling over the edge into temptation. Not only was sex unpredictable, it was fulfilling and so fucking hot. Even without _seeing_ this would happen, he knew it what it would be like.

After all, it had been almost this good with Toriel.

He pulls back, looking down at the satisfaction on her face with a swell of pride. He brushes his hand over her face and she sighs when he strokes her cheek with his thumb.

He carefully unties the rope at her wrists, glancing over her butt and back for any upsetting damage. Her skin is still welted and raw with a splatter of red pinpricks from broken blood vessels. He grimaces as he pulls away the loose rope, running a soft hand over the marks. She sighs again at the touch. “Your hands are cold,” she coos.

Before he can ask something he never does, she rolls to her back to look at him, checking the red and pink indents in her wrists and flexing her fingers. “How long will that hold you over?” She asks curiously, interrupting his unasked question for a second time.

“A bit. Longer if I don’t see you for a few hours.” He answers honestly with a smirk. “You good? You didn’t say your safe-word but I was pretty out of it.”

She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t say it because I didn’t need to. Yeah, you were rough, but just because you weren’t focused doesn’t mean you were cruel.”

He frowns at her in disbelief.

“Okay, how about this?” She takes a second to gather her words, still riding pretty high. “It was passionate, not mean. Usually when you’re focused we’ll go for hours. Those times are intense in a different way, those actually hurt more but you take your time with it, so it’s spread over all of me. This, this wasn’t bad, at all.” She adds the last sentence with emphasis. “This…this was awesome. It was all so fast and spur of the moment and just-“

He holds up a hand to stop her, his heart beginning to pound again. “If you keep talking we’re gonna be here for a while.”

She smirks with a soft chuckle. “Go ahead, go do your thing.” She makes a shooing motion with her hand at him.

He sags with a hard sigh. “I’m taking you back above-ground first.”

Now she sags, frowning up at him from the bed. “Aw, but I like it down here. So peaceful and pretty. And where else can I go where there’s snow falling this time of year?”

“Yeah, but when I leave, you’ll be down here alone. No one lives here anymore, the nearest monsters are miles and miles away.”

She flops back to the bed. “Ugh, okay.” With a loud groan she rolls to her feet, shivering lightly at the warm feeling of new pains and bruises. She pulls an oversized black sweater from a top drawer and tugs it over her naked self.

Sans hauls himself to his feet and takes her hand. “Stealing my clothes already?” He had to admit it was strangely appealing to see her naked in his sweater. The hem fell to her knees, the neck was wide enough to fall and expose one shoulder, and she was already struggling with the length of the sleeves. It didn’t make her child-like, like some would assume, but it wasn’t a look he was used to seeing on her.

She shrugs, her shoulders falling as they arrive in the dim bedroom of his apartment. “You’ll find them in no time, you can have it back then.”

“I dunno about that, things are still pretty foggy. Not like this stuff is precise on it’s own, because why have something like this be helpful in any way? Ugh, anyway, I’ll try to be back by tomorrow, okay?” He actually tries to lighten the mood with that last sentence, kissing her forehead again.

She frowns slightly. “One day you’ll have to explain how all that stuff works, the teleporting, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll have a long, boring talk about my weird, annoying powers when I get home.”

“And we’ll go back Underground?” She asks hopefully.

He smiles. “Yeah, if you want.”

“Okay, now go, you have no excuse to not go find those kids!” She shoos him, seeming to recover from her temporary daydream.

“All right, all right! See you, Kitten.”

“Bye, Sans.” She rolls to her toes to kiss him, wondering—not for the first time—how she managed to find those invisible lips perfectly every time.

*

Back underground Sans feels his muscles sag in resignation. He rubs his hands over his face and decides to procrastinate a little longer and take a shower. Downstairs he hears Toriel grumbling loudly and knows she’s going to come upstairs soon.

He’s not at all surprised by how little he cares as he twists the shower to full-blast. All he really wanted was a nice, quiet vacation. He supposes someone could argue he got that much after the barrier finally fell. There were a few months with Toriel that he half-wished he could look back on fondly. He’d been completely blown-away when the kid actually went through with letting the timeline go forward.

For a while he was happy, there weren’t any weird echoes or overlapping ‘memories’ or timelines or whatever someone would call this curse. His general rule of thumb was that only life-changing or intense experiences got through to him. It seemed like the lower his magic the harder it was to ignore. Like all monsters, his state of mind had a huge influence on his magic levels. Positive or energizing emotions like love, passion, and anger made them higher. Negative emotions like heart-break or depression made them plummet.

Happiness made it easy for him to ignore any ripples at his mind. He was willing to let something blind-side him just to completely enjoy his time above-ground. _Especially_ if it was limited. He was still creeped out by the kid…and that fucking flower, but if they stayed “good” he wasn’t going to complain. His karma vision hadn’t led him to mistrust the kid more than usual, so he decided to play along.

Then Toriel decided the kid and the flower would be better off if she moved back in with Asgore.

Sans had tried everything to keep her from doing it. She would be miserable around him, she hated him for all his mistakes. Her kid would be better off if she was happy, it wasn’t like they’d never go visit Asgore if they missed him, for inexplicable reasons.

He could admit now that jealousy was what kept him from hearing her out. She said she wasn’t going to do anything but live in the same house and co-exist with him, but he didn’t believe her. After the outrage he’d initially felt, he tried to calm down but his curiosity was too much. For the first time since the barrier fell, he actively tried to see other…outcomes.

Not only did he see Toriel with Asgore, happy and easy to assume they were fucking, he opened the floodgates. After successfully shutting himself away from the intrusive, violent and usually disturbing nightmares and “visions” for so long, the first time he’d looked on purpose brought all of it back.

It wasn’t hard for him to blame that on her.

It was easy to shove her away. In the sudden shock of seeing what he interpreted as a blatant lie on her part, someone he’d trusted whole-heartedly, he simply left without a word. She took the massive hint and didn’t try to follow him or talk with him again.

And it wasn’t long before the nightmares came back. Most of it was the heart-break, the rest was because he’d stopped caring about keeping the future a surprise.

He still half-blamed her for fucking everything up. She was still as miserable as ever with Asgore. And now her kids were gone. What good did all that misery serve now?

Ugh. The kids…

He was already exhausted just thinking about tracking down the little shits. His skull tilts forward until it touches the frigid tile and he closes his eyes. Steaming water rushes over him but it does little to help the already growing tension in his muscles.

“Have you not wasted enough time already, you must delay further?” Toriel asks with annoyance.

Sans opens his eyes without moving, glancing sideways around the gap in the shower curtain at the queen leaning in his bathroom doorway with her arms firmly crossed.

“I’m half-hoping they’ll just show back up.” He grumbles, soaping up with a half-assed effort. “Plus, I don’t want to reek of sex around Alphys. You know she doesn’t get laid much, and she’s one of my last two friends. Don’t wanna make things too weird.”

“Ugh, fine. I suppose she would be a menace to deal with like that.”

A pained silence fills the space between them. Toriel finds she can’t look anywhere without laying her eyes on something sex-related. Rope, toys, scattered clothes… “I will wait downstairs.” She says, turning to leave. She had more important things to focus on than sex. No matter if she could barely remember the last time someone had made her cry-out like that _human_ had earlier.

She gives herself a mental shake, ashamed of herself for biting her bottom lip. More important things.

“Whatever,” Sans says dryly as he swipes open the shower curtain, turning the shower off. “I’m not seeing anything just coming to mind, by the way. And before you ask,” he adds as he snatches a towel from the rack and angrily dries himself off. “no, I’m not going to open that Pandora’s box again anytime soon. We’re tracking them down the old-fashioned way.”

Toriel rolls her eyes and lets them focus on the only thing that won’t make her mind race somewhere inappropriate, the door. “Fine. As long as we can make some headway already!”

“Hey, you’re the one who waited three days to get serious.”

Her head snaps back to glare at him, thankfully he’s pulled on shorts at this point. “I exhausted all other avenues first. Everyone has been searching for them underground. This is…” She pauses and Sans pulls a t-shirt on, turning to look fully at her. “You are my last resort, you inconsiderate ass.”

Toriel watches him retrieve his coat from the headboard. “Yeah, well, I’m still pissed about it.” He grumbles as he shoves his feet into his sneakers.

“I would expect no less of a monster interrupted from heat.”

Sans freezes, half-way to offering his hand to teleport her. “Was that…something not mean?”

Toriel tilts her muzzle up haughtily, looking away from him. “I am saying I understand your frustration in the hopes you can understand mine.”

Sans blinks in stunned surprise, hand still out-stretched. “Don’t go soft on me, Tori.” He jokes, not sure where the urge to do so came from.

She softens very slightly, managing a weak smile. The smile dies when she offers her paw, steeling herself for the unavoidable reaction it would cause. Sans’ skin still prickles with magic and she feels it press through her fur. Reflexively, her paw grips him tighter. Her magic recognizes his and for a half-second she nearly closes the distance between them.

He stands very still, looking up at her while she composes her thoughts once more.

There were more important things to focus on right now.

Her paw relaxes in his palm and with a soft “pop” they vanish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, this seemed like the best way to let you guys know what's going on. I'll kind of be laying everything bare so it might be kinda heavy. I know I've been absent for a while, I've been dealing with some pretty serious mental health issues since last summer. It's caused a major writers block and other problems.
> 
> I was hospitalized for about two weeks and I'm currently in daily therapy from 9-3. I've still got a long way to go with therapy and recovery, so my schedule is really full of absolutely exhausting things and I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again. I do want to finish the next chapter before the end of the month, but if its not up by then it'll probably be updated sometime in April.
> 
> I'm sorry I've kept you guys waiting for so long and now waiting for a little bit longer, but I need to take care of myself right now.
> 
> I just wanted to let you all know that I AM still very interested in these stories (this one especially ;3 ) and that I DO plan on finishing them someday.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this and I always love reading your comments and seeing kudos and views stack up. 
> 
> -Love,
> 
> Fells' Kitten (SquirrleyCow)


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